Hollow Skies
by SanguineNoctis
Summary: Loki's been captured by one of the Avengers but his punishment turns out to be far worse than he could ever imagine. Post-Avengers. WARNING: contains non-con, torture, psychological torture, angst. If this disturbs you (and it probably will), don't read. ON HIATUS - see chapter 11 a/n for details.
1. Chapter 1

**Warnings:** this story contains explicit rape/non-con, physical torture, psychological torture, PTSD, extreme Loki-whump

(About slash: my own opinion is that slash relationships are between two _consenting_ parties. Therefore, I'll go ahead and say there's no slash in this story, just m/m rape/non-con.)

**Warnings this chapter: **semi-explicit rape, not much else

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _The Avengers_ or any of the characters within, etc.

As all we disturbing authors say: Don't like, don't read. I've given fair warning, please don't complain about the content; just don't read it.

A/N: This story is far longer and disturbing (although that's subjective, obviously) than my one-shot _This Sun I Call My Brother_ so keep that in mind before reading. It's dark enough that I've been working on it for several months (off and on) but haven't had the courage to post it until I made my new profile. And since most of you found my one-shot okay to read, I decided I could post this as well. There's actually not a lot of explicit rape scenes in this fic, just a couple, but it's still pretty disturbing even without specific scenes (at least I think so). There's also some torture, although perhaps not the obvious kind. It _is_ a h/c story, however, so keep that in mind as well.

_Note_: There's one thing I'd like to say before you get started: there's more going on in this story than meets the eye... (you'll see what in later chapters.)

**_Important Note_**: I just remembered this story is a bit AU. The only difference from the movie is that Thor and Loki couldn't return to Asgard with the Tesseract, they were forced to stay on Earth. More will be explained in-story. Everything else is the same.

* * *

_**Hollow Skies - **_**_Chapter 1_**

Loki lay quietly on his side on the cold concrete floor. He often wished he could revert to his Jotun form, for more than one reason, but for now, he would have appreciated its resistance to the cold. He had, long ago, become accustomed to the dark, relying on the nearly imperceptible red light from the camera embedded into the corner of the ceiling.

He shivered, and for the hundredth time wished he had even a scrap of clothing to cover himself with. Even just his hands or his feet, anything but this open frailty, this raw exposure to anything and everything.

_How long have I been here?_ he wondered. It felt almost like years, but he suspected it had only been a few months. Few _agonizing _months of the most unbearable kind of torture. He would have taken anything but _this_. Anything at all: his lips sewn shut again, being tied to that dreaded rock while the serpent's poison dripped into his eyes, the cold unblinking abyss..._anything_.

Certainly the pain itself was bearable, if only by a margin, but being _used_ like this... of being nothing but someone's plaything, a slave to their whim, to feel every ache and know there was nothing he could do to stop it - the combined effect was unimaginable.

The beeping sounds - the sounds of someone gaining access to the room - echoed through his head, grinding against his forgotten will. _No no no no no...not again, not again..._

He tried to sit up, to hide away from the frequent intruder, but his last session had been particularly brutal, and he had not had sufficient time to heal. So he just lay there, struggling futilely against the collar around his neck. Connected to the collar was a long metal chain, which was then connected to the center of the concrete room.

Loki finally managed to back away somewhat, a little against the wall - meager protection - just as the familiar man entered through the door, which slid shut behind him.

* * *

"Jarvis, lights," said Tony Stark. As usual the blinding lights switched on, Loki covered his face with both arms. He didn't like the brightness, but he also hated looking at his captor. Every time he came here, the inventor's attitude was one of three: angry, bored, or extremely drunk. The trickster wasn't sure which one he hated the most. Anger made the man come and go quicker, but he was also more violent. Bored might have been the best, except such an attitude was unnervingly inappropriate given the situation. Extremely drunk was bad simply because it was so chaotic. His emotions ranged from spastically happy to sorrowful to hatefully seductive - the last of which often gave Loki the impression Stark sometimes believed the mischief god had volunteered this treatment.

But it didn't really matter, the result was always the same.

Loki cowered behind his arms and attempted to make himself smaller against the wall. Stark moved closer, _bored it is then_, Loki silently noted.

The moment the man of iron began unbuckling his belt, Loki whimpered and tried to slide away further, somewhere closer the corner. It was futile, the trickster knew, but it was an instinct he could no longer control. Begging was also useless, Loki learned very quickly, and sometimes spurred the man on, but it was another thing the trickster often couldn't help.

The mischief god felt tears already falling down his face in anticipation of the familiar pain.

He wanted to beg, say _something_, but no..._ useless! He'll never stop, it doesn't matter! You can't do anything!_

The clinking of metal and a slight tug of warning on his collar kept Loki compliant when he felt warm hands turning him over onto his stomach. _No no no! Somebody help me!_ The fingers were now on his hips pulling him up to his knees, his face buried into the cold floor.

_No, please..._

The stabbing pain of the man suddenly inside him shot up his spine and Loki cried out. It was too much. He had long ago lost count of how many times it had happened, how many times the mortal had visited him, _hurt_ him. Given the human's nature, it shouldn't have been surprising that he occasionally used..._objects_ instead. Loki tried his best to ignore those strange assaults and he couldn't decide if they were worse or better than what Stark usually did to him.

Loki sobbed into the floor and quietly wondered why Stark had entered him so easily. _What could it-_ But then he remembered the short time span between visits, no doubt his blood still lingered. His thoughts distracted him only for a moment, as the sudden sharp pull of the chain on his collar jerked him back onto Stark's member. Loki tried to cry out, but the sound caught in his throat as the collar choked him.

Now the inventor was speeding up, his pounding getting rougher with each passing second. Loki could do nothing but continue to cry openly against the now wet floor and hope that it would be over soon. It hurt so much it _burned_, but each potential scream was stifled by the collar around his neck. This was another of Stark's favorite things to do, to control Loki's movements with the chain and collar, although he just as often used the trickster's hair.

As the assault continued, Loki found himself asking familiar questions that frequently invaded his once confident mind. Why did Stark do this to him? Why punish him in such a way when it seemed that most Midgardians appeared to frown on such actions. When the mischief god had first met Tony Stark in his tower, he would have never guessed what darkness lurked beneath that casually drunken charisma, that blue orb hidden beneath humble clothing. If he had known...well, Loki wasn't afraid to admit it, he would have _thrown_ the Tesseract at him and run to Thor's side begging to be sent home. _Any_ Aesir punishment would have been better than this.

And what had happened? How had he gotten here? Where did it all begin? Oh yes, the Chitauri. Loki had been running from them after he had escaped using his magic, but no world was safe, no matter where he teleported to. So, why not hide on Midgard? The last place he would be expected to hide? Where it all started? And if nothing else, the so-called _Avengers_ might keep them busy for a while, or at least until he could think up a better plan than simply running.

The Chitauri had caught up to him while on some planet he couldn't identify, and just as Loki was about to teleport to Earth, he was struck by one of their weapons. Normally he would have been able to shrug it off, but using his magic in that way caused his barriers to come down and the foreign energy to enter his body, causing him pain while simultaneously draining him of his magic. He _had_ gotten through, of course, to Midgard, but his concentration had been broken and at the last moment he accidentally teleported himself to Stark's tower - the first familiar place that entered his mind.

Initially, it didn't seem too big a deal, until the Avenger clasped metal on Loki's wrists and pushed him into this cell. Loki wasn't too worried then, his magic would have returned, and he could break free. Unfortunately, Stark had been using the last few months to perfect an anti-magic collar just for such an occasion - the same collar he was wearing now. It stung and it bit into him when Stark first forced it on him. He demanded the collar be taken off but it was too late.

And now here he was. Little more than Stark's plaything, his slave. The first time he forced himself on Loki, the god of mischief had been furious and promised vengeance so vile. The next couple of times Loki threatened him with Thor - saying his brother would bludgeon him into the floor when the thunder god found out. So, Stark had put a muzzle on him to shut him up. After the first dozen times or so, he took it off, knowing Loki wouldn't resist. He still didn't remember when exactly his shackles had been removed.

Loki almost sighed with relief when Stark spilled into him, it meant it was over, _finally_. The trickster sniffled and rubbed the tears from his eyes then didn't bother catching himself when he collapsed to his side. It hurt, but he didn't care. Stark was leaving, the metal door sliding behind.

Loki smiled. It was a ridiculous thing to do, he knew, but he vowed to himself that he would do some things to keep himself sane. To celebrate every good moment, no matter that they weren't really things to be happy for. Stark leaving was _always _a reason to celebrate in Loki's mind, so he smiled.

* * *

A/N: So, feel like you need some brain bleach yet? Even I've had a hard time re-reading my own story in order to proofread it, lol.

About any OOC-ness: obviously we're sort of jumping in the middle of the story here, so a lot's happened. So unless you think that people are incapable of changing based on extreme circumstances, I'd say Loki isn't too OOC - but of course that's a matter of opinion. Tony... well, that's another thing entirely.

I'll try to update semi-regularly since I have a few chapters written already, but more than likely updates will be sporadic, at best. I'm afraid this fic is subject to my unpredictable whims and I only add to it when I'm in the mood. Still, if by chance people like it, I'll try to keep up with updating at least weekly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Warnings:** this story contains explicit rape/non-con, physical torture, psychological torture, PTSD, extreme Loki-whump

(About slash: my own opinion is that slash relationships are between two _consenting_ parties. Therefore, I'll go ahead and say there's no slash in this story, just m/m rape/non-con.)

**Warnings this chapter: **mentions of rape, angst

As all we disturbing authors say: Don't like, don't read. I've given fair warning, please don't complain about the content; just don't read it.

A/N: New chapter! More Loki-whump, poor thing. He certainly has a hard time in fics, huh?

* * *

_**Hollow Skies - Chapter 2**_

Sometimes, on a very rare occasion, Stark would enter Loki's cell and do nothing but talk to him. This, Loki began to notice, was actually one of his 'drunk moods' in which the inventor apparently needed someone to talk to, his computer man presumably too lacking in body to be a satisfying conversationalist.

And now, three days since the last assault, saw the mortal entering Loki's cell to do just that: talk.

The trickster was wary at first, as usual, taking his spot at the far corner of the cell, but upon realizing which Tony he was dealing with, he relaxed somewhat. Even so, Stark had, on one occasion, proceeded to violate the god in the middle of their conversation - all the while _still talking_, as though nothing strange was happening - and Loki was not looking to repeat that experience.

So Loki leaned quietly against the wall, happy that he even _could_ sit now, his body healed up for the most part. His thighs touched his chest and he rested both hands lightly on his knees, trying with everything in him to appear unattractive. He wasn't certain _what_ Stark liked, the man did not seem very selective about...well _anything_.

The inventor had cut the god's hair slightly shorter after the first couple of weeks, although Loki, by that time, knew better than to say anything about it. The scissors had given him pause, and he had been worried what he might do with them, and then had nearly laughed at himself when nothing bad had happened.

_What's he talking about now?_ Loki wondered, as he mostly tuned the inventor out when he spoke.

"...and, Thor, y'know...just _completely _ruined it for me." Loki stiffened up at the mention of his not-brother's name. That name only belonged in his own thoughts, his memories. That's where it stayed because that's where he wanted it to stay. However illogical it was, Loki, when the pain was so bad he could only scream, could not help but blame Thor for not helping him, for not _rescuing _him. Afterward, he _knew_ it was ridiculous to blame Thor, there was no way for him to know he was here, but still... So he began to put his not-brother at the back of his mind, up on a pedestal or in a vault where he wouldn't have to think about him, where he couldn't reach him. No, he had told himself. Thor can't get to you because he's _over there_. _You_ put him there, so don't complain that he hasn't saved you.

He wanted that_, needed_ that separation. The thunder god was the only being in the Nine Realms that still cared for him, no matter what Loki had done, he couldn't afford to start blaming him for things he couldn't do - or had no control over.

Loki started to cry, he couldn't stop it. He _missed_ his brother. He missed Frigga, hel, he even missed Sif and the Warriors Three. At the beginning, especially when Stark came to him, Loki would fantasize about Thor saving him, about his golden brother rescuing him with Mjolnir singing. Sometimes Sif and the others were there, and sometimes, even the other Avengers, as strange as it was. He had begun to wonder about the other Avengers, if they would help him if they ever found him in the tower. The soldier he knew would probably help immediately, but the man hiding the monster... Loki hadn't met him, but from what Barton had told him, he was a fairly mildly mannered mortal, so Loki guessed - or perhaps hoped - he might help too. And oh how wonderful it would be if the monster itself smashed the man of iron into the floor. Barton and Romanoff Loki was certain would not help. The two might even join Stark in his punishment of the unfortunate god.

Lost in thought, Loki suddenly realized he was alone and the lights blinked off.

* * *

So it continued for a length of time the god of mischief couldn't measure. Stark was annoyingly unpredictable. Sometimes he would restrain Loki further for no apparent reason, despite the fact the god wouldn't resist anyway. The muzzle made its appearance every so often, even though it was pointless. Sometimes the inventor would beat Loki first, then take him, other times that process would be reversed. Several times Loki awoke to Stark pounding into him - a most unpleasant wake-up call - which the trickster quickly guessed was a result of the man's drunkenness. A few times, and more recently, Loki began to notice the mortal speaking to him, only to realize he hadn't been speaking to _Loki_ so much as to himself.

The one thing Stark never did, however, was take Loki out of this room, until one day.

Four days had passed since Stark had last visited the mischief god, and Loki lay quietly, as usual, waiting for whatever strange new abuse the engineer would try on him. Instead he heard a mechanical sound like metal releasing metal, followed by a light tug on his collar. The lights turned on, revealing the seemingly not-drunk Tony Stark holding the end of Loki's chain-leash.

"So. Today you get to go outside," Stark said. Loki furrowed his brow. "Well, outside this _room_, at least." He tugged on the chain a little at the god's reluctance to move. "Come on."

Loki was thoroughly confused, Stark had _never_ allowed him outside his cell, _why now?_ He was suddenly wary of what the mortal might have planned for him, but decided it would be worse to disobey. So he stood up gingerly, making certain first that he _could_ stand up, then he followed the inventor out of the room.

There was a long grey corridor stretching straight out from the cell, with intermittent lights mounted on the left wall. To his right looked like several storage rooms, and Loki surmised that they were in some sort of basement.

The god followed quietly behind Stark, who still held the chain in his hand, and looked about with curious eyes. Loki kept his hands balled in fists near his stomach and kept his head low. _Maybe_, Loki found his thoughts wandering without permission, _maybe I could find a way to escape. If I collect enough information-_

The two were now entering a small room with a metal door, which Loki soon remembered as an 'elevator'. A form of transportation within mortal buildings. The ride was fairly short, _why not use the stairs?_

As the two metal doors slid open, Stark led Loki out into a spacious living room. The god hunched his shoulders even more and brought his nervous hands up to his chest as he looked around in this new environment. To the left were floor to ceiling glass windows, with a long elegant couch sat in front of it. A large piano was nearby, as well as - Loki stared to the right, _the front door?_ As the inventor led the god across the obviously expensive room, Loki began to realize this was, in fact, _not_ Stark's tower. Out the windows he could see the grey sky and the deep blue ocean, for one thing. _Where are we?_ Loki was certain he was in the tower. He searched his memory, sifting through weeks, if not months, of torture to find a time that he was - _ah._ Loki sighed, _the first week._ About one week after he was captured Stark had used some horrible device on the god that felt similar to Mjolnir's lightning. It had taken quite some time but Loki had finally lost consciousness. _So, he moved me here._ The cells were identical in every way, although Loki would have had a difficult time making any comparisons since he was always kept in the dark, and when it _was_ bright, Stark was always there; it wasn't the best time to memorize his surroundings.

Stark seemed to notice the god's confusion, "This is my _other _home, did you think _I_ would live in that tower twenty-four seven?" Loki glanced at him then continued looking around. "Anyway, this way."

The inventor led the god down some stairs, then into a small boxed in space that had glass walls. _Why did we just use that elevator if now we use stairs?_ Loki eyed the large room through the glass. Stark entered a code onto the panel next to the glass door, which promptly slid open to let the two in.

The room was very large, and long. Several cars lined the far side of the room, while the rest of the space was dominated by work tables, scrap metal, and tools. To the right were a couch and table. Loki stepped as far away as the chain would allow, to get a better look at all the metal pieces strewn about - which clearly belonged to Stark's Iron Man suits.  
"Okay, so here's the deal," Stark began. He pointed at Loki, who snapped to attention. "_You_ help me down here, be my assistant or whatever, _I_ let you out of that cage so you _can _assist me."

Loki narrowed his eyes at that logic. Of course it didn't exactly make sense, but he couldn't deny that he liked being out of that Hel hole. No doubt the inventor would still do as he pleased with him even out here, but at least it was a change of scenery.

Loki nodded.

"Good. Now hand me that," Stark pointed. Loki obliged.

* * *

One week passed and Stark had let Loki 'assist' him three times already. The god was once again becoming accustomed to a brighter setting, as he dutifully listened to all of Stark's instructions. He had assaulted Loki only once while in the workshop, during a particularly potent drunken stupor, although he had not finished and had passed out halfway through. Loki had slipped the chain out of Stark's hand, and although he was beyond nervous, he inched toward the glass exit, wondering if he could at least open the door. But, as he suspected, a key-code was required, and Stark apparently changed it often.

The mortal also remembered to feed Loki more frequently while he was in the workshop. The longest Loki had gone without food and water since his imprisonment was a week or so, and clearly Stark did not care to remember the basic necessity. So the trickster was pleasantly surprised when on the second day of assisting, Stark brought him some bread and water. Loki thanked him, the mortal didn't respond.

Two days after that Loki was hunched over a worktable, handling a large piece of metal that Tony had told him to clean. Whether or not the engineer had told him to, Loki would have cleaned it until he could see his reflection, as the trickster was particularly meticulous when it came to cleanliness. Or, at least, he tried to be. His cell wasn't exactly the cleanest place to be, regardless of what Loki had tried in the beginning. He had quickly given up, choosing to ignore the disgusting environment. Stark had taken to spraying Loki, and the room, down with a water hose - which the trickster immediately hated after the first try. The water was cold and Stark was not gentle. It was fortunate the mortal had built a drain into one corner of the room. Even so, after the initial shock had worn off, it was nice to feel clean - or at least the illusion of it.

The metal in Loki's hands shone brightly and the god let a small smile cross his face. _Yes, the little things, smile for the little things_, he repeated to himself. Stark had left him alone in the workshop for a few minutes, and the inventor was now coming down the stairs - or, at least, _stumbling_ down the stairs, Loki noticed. _Drunk again_, he sighed. Stark did strange things when he was drunk, Loki decided he hated that mood the most.

The mortal tapped the code onto the keypad...then he tried again, then again, he cursed, then tried it again. On the third try the panel lit green, and Stark entered - only to trip over himself and fall face-first onto the floor.

Loki jumped up, uncertain what to do._ Should I help him? _Maybe he would be kinder if - Loki's eyes darted to the door. _Open..._ Stark's foot was caught in the door.

The trickster's pulse sky-rocketed, his fight or flight instinct kicking in. _I can run, I can run...No no no...He'll be angry, what do you think he'll do?_ _No! Run! It doesn't matter! No stay. No run!_ Loki's legs made the decision for him as he leapt over the prone figure and jerked the glass door open. He didn't hear Stark groan as he bounded up the stairs in a panicked desperation.

_Run run run run run..._ The words repeated in his head, never stopping. He ran straight for the front door, not caring about the fact that he was still naked. _Nothing_ mattered now except escaping.

The door was calling to him, only an arm's reach away -

_"You are not permitted to leave the premises,"_ said Jarvis.

Loki's mind screamed, _no no no no no no! No please!_ The door wouldn't budge. Loki tried to kick at it, punch it, force it open somehow, but it wouldn't move. _The glass the glass. Window window window._ Loki jerked around and ran for the large windows that led out to the cliff side. _Yes yes, outside outside. Glass breaks, break it break it break it._

As if the man in the ceiling had heard Loki's thoughts, his voice rang out.

_"Please step away from the glass, you are not permitted to leave the premises."_

Loki wasn't listening, he grabbed a small table and lifted it to throw through the - something collided with him, causing him to drop the table as it smashed into pieces against the floor.

_No no no no no no! Stark is here Stark is here no no no can't get away never get away. No please please please somebody help me!_

The mortal was off of him the next moment, but an excruciating pain filled the trickster's body. The fake lightning that Stark had used the first week ripped through every part of Loki with blinding agony.

He heard the man speaking, saying something angrily - _growling_ at him - but Loki was too busy passing out.

* * *

A/N: I have to say I took some liberties with the layout of Stark's home since I didn't feel like going back and sifting through the Iron Man movies to get it exactly right. Still, I think it's mostly accurate, if a little different - and who's to say he doesn't change it around every so often? ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Warnings this chapter: **angst, psychological torture

A/N: The last chapter was kind of a cliffhanger so here's the next chapter, earlier than I thought I'd be posting it. ;)

* * *

**_Hollow Skies - Chapter 3_**

The god of mischief awoke in darkness. He sighed. _My cell then..._ He tried to sit up, but gasped and changed his mind when pain shot through every inch of his body. He also felt...wet. And because of it, cold. He groaned and winced as even the smallest movement sent shooting pain through every nerve. It was obvious that Stark had decided to both beat and rape him while he was unconscious and Loki was glad he didn't remember any of it. He really didn't expect any less. He had endured both injustices many times during his captivity, but Stark had rarely brutalized him to such an extreme - or at least not recently. Loki couldn't even _move_, and he could barely breathe, apparently a result of being strangled.

So he lay there while trying to think how long it would take to heal this time. But before he could make an estimation, he lost consciousness again.

* * *

Three days later and Loki still wasn't properly healed. He could barely sit, and he _certainly _couldn't stand. The darkness was eating at him, the quiet solitude even worse. He cursed himself and every instinct in his body for allowing that escape attempt. If he hadn't tried it... He shook his head in the dark. Suddenly every possible scenario ran through his head. What if he had not run? What if, instead, he had killed Stark while he was vulnerable and drunk on the floor? Loki growled at himself, _why didn't I?_ But some part of him shivered at the idea. Next, he scolded himself for not trying the window first. _Of course_ the door would be barred by that Jarvis creature. If he had broken the window, gotten outside... Loki knew he could survive the fall into the water, he'd survived worse falls, after all. But then... Stark would have dawned his iron suit and flown after him. Loki shook his head. _No, that wouldn't work either._

There were so many possibilities, yet all lead to one conclusion: recapture.

Loki laughed and cried at his stupidity. _Why did I not consider all this earlier?_ If he had, he could have avoided even attempting escape in the first place, or at least come up with a better plan that didn't involve such mindless 'run run and run some more' tactics. It was a plan someone like Thor would come up-

His body went rigid. _No._

He didn't want to think about _him_, about his brother who hadn't rescued him. _Not his fault not his fault._ But it didn't matter. Loki painstakingly moved onto his side and curled into a ball. It hurt to cry, the ache spreading across his torso with each sob, but he didn't care, he _wanted_ to cry. _Why hasn't he saved me?_ All through their lives, every time Loki had gotten into trouble, Thor was there to get him out. Of course, the thunder god's solution to everything was smash first with hammer and deal with the consequences later, but right now, Loki wanted that. He had often wondered why Thor hadn't come, why he hadn't come smashing through the door, that ridiculous red cape flowing in the wind.

At first Loki had thought it was because Thor thought it a just punishment for the trickster's misdeeds, but he quickly abandoned that reasoning; he _knew_ Thor would never allow such a terrible fate to befall his little brother. So then Loki had realized something, why Heimdall probably couldn't see him and therefore why Thor hadn't come. The _collar_. Somehow the collar had locked in the spell Loki often used to hide himself from the all-seeing gatekeeper. The first few days of his imprisonment, before the collar, he had expected to escape, so he continued hiding himself from Heimdall. And it was too late to reverse the spell after the infernal metal was around his neck. Oh how Loki _hated _the thing.

* * *

Two more days passed and Stark had not come to visit. _Strange_, Loki thought, but he didn't mind since he needed the rest to fully heal. _Only for that sadistic mortal to ruin my time spent healing._

Another two days and the engineer had not shown his face. Loki was becoming worried. _Is this some new punishment?_ He was almost fully healed now as he paced his perpetually dark cell, the metal leash sliding across the floor as he moved.

Over a week passed by and Loki was becoming _very _worried. _Where is he? He's never left me in here this long. Is he coming back?_

Loki scolded himself. _Why would you want him to come back? Miss his company, do you?_ He smirked then laughed, although it was humorless and nervous.

After the second week Loki began feeling like a trapped animal, trapped in the dark, no way out. _No way out, too dark, no way out._ He shook his head and wrung his hands, curled in his corner. _He can't just leave me here, can he? He wouldn't!_ Stark didn't seem the type of man to control himself - surely he would burst in here in one of his drunken moods and assault Loki as he always had.

The darkness was _eating_ at him.

_No, this a good thing_, Loki told himself. He was hungry and thirsty, certainly, but at least he was no longer in pain. The collar and chain still chafed his neck, but that was the only discomfort. The cold he had long become accustomed to...but the darkness, _the darkness..._

_Yes, a good thing; no more visits, no more pain._

Loki smiled madly at his own reasoning.

* * *

Another two weeks passed, although Loki had lost track of time a long time ago. He scratched at the walls and broke his nails leaving bloody trails everywhere he went. The floor was too hard - _or maybe it's too soft? _

_Too quiet._

There was a smell in the air, like copper, _when did Stark put copper in here? Was I sleeping? _

_Too quiet too loud._

The air was thin, like strings, seeping in his ears. There were noises when he slept, but when he awoke there was only silence.

_So quiet so loud so quiet so loud quiet loud quietloudquiet-_

* * *

If Loki could keep track of time, he would have known that another month had passed. But he didn't care about time, there was only the dark and the cold and the noises while he slept. He wasn't sure where his body ended and the darkness began. The stifling black was _bleeding_ into him, he knew it was. _You'll never get in here! I won't allow it!_ He scratched and clawed at something, anything, nothing, trying to keep the dark out.

And the noises... "_Shut up!_" he screamed angrily to the red and brilliant air. "Shut up shut up _shut up_!" He was gripping his hair, his head. "No more! I won't let you in! _He _said you _can't get in_! There are _rules_, you know!"

He fell to the floor, pounding his fists on the moving ground - or maybe it was the ceiling?

Little legs crawled up his spine, ate into his flesh. They were living in there, he was sure of it. So he scratched the little things out, and he laughed when he felt wetness on his fingers.

"I got them out!" he screamed to his fingers. "_We did it together_." He smiled with too many teeth and round vicious eyes in the dark.

* * *

The amount of time Loki had been trapped in his cell he didn't know, and he couldn't. But on an unnamed day, and suddenly, there was a familiar beeping sound followed by the metal grinding of a door swinging open. The figure in the doorway stood still, unmoving. His silhouette was seen by no one, since the body on the floor hadn't moved.

Lights.

Brightness.

The body jerked, then scrambled to shield itself from the assault on his eyes. Next, it screamed. A scream that was more of a wail from a disused throat that rattled and shrank and bounced clumsily off the walls.

The inventor stepped inside, steady footfalls coming closer to the trickster.

The god on the floor didn't open his eyes, but angled his head toward the approaching figure with a shark grin, "I-I kept them out," he croaked. "They didn't- I didn't let them in. You'll be happy. I kept them out." His eyes remained closed as he curled in on himself.

The man with the blue light in his chest said nothing.

There was a sound of liquid sloshing and something wet on dry lips, but Loki's slight movement wasn't his choice. His instincts accepted the small bit of water on his lips without question, and then, a few hours later, an equally small amount of food. It didn't register in his mind until the next day, when the man with the light in his chest returned.

_Stark?_

* * *

Three days of strange constant brightness passed by the trickster as he slowly came back to himself. The blinding lights above hadn't turned off for those three days, and the man of iron visited once each day to feed the mischief god. It was strange and unfamiliar to Loki, but he accepted the morsels and the water without hesitation. His vision was slowly returning, becoming accustomed to the light once again, and for the first time, he saw the red.

Red. Red. _Red_. Everywhere red. And underneath that, darker reds filled with sanguine sorrows.

His own blood covered the walls and floors - and somehow the ceiling - and on the fourth day he felt the familiar spray of water used to clean him. He didn't resist and he didn't scream, although he couldn't help but shy away from the cold and harsh onslaught of water. Even so, it was strangely welcome; the act echoed of a past less oppressively dark.

The stains never fully disappeared, but the fresh grime and blood washed away, and Loki could breathe again. He felt new, different.

He thanked the mortal for coming back for him, and he wanted to beg him to never leave again.

For the first time in four days, the inventor spoke, "I need you to never do that again."

Loki blinked at the mortal, who was standing several steps away with arms crossed. "D-Do w-what again?" His voice was hoarse and scratchy, so long without speech. The trickster god honestly had no idea what he meant. _Why won't he come closer?_

Stark tilted his head, his face expressionless. "Try to run away."

Realization dawned on Loki, the thought of escape hadn't even crossed his mind. He nodded his head fervently, "I won't, I won't." The mortals eyes narrowed, as if trying to find a lie in the pale face. "I-I-I won't, I promise. Y-you came back, I don't want you to ever go away again." Loki was crying now, he didn't know why. "Please, _please_ don't leave me again."

Stark nodded and backed away toward the door. "Okay," he said.

"Y-y-you're leaving?" Loki asked anxiously, sitting up straight, wiping his eyes.

"Yeah. I've got work to do."

Loki perked up at that, remembering something...something good about _working_. "C-can I come-" he bowed his head and shrunk into himself a little, knowing Stark wasn't likely to allow him out of his cell again.

Stark scrutinized the god for a moment, thinking. "Are you going to try to escape again?"

Loki shook his head so fiercely he was afraid it would fall off. "No, no more, no no no no. I-I-I'll do what you want, what you say, anything, anything you say." He stared at the floor with wide pleading tear-filled eyes, "Please?"

After a long moment the mortal finally nodded and Loki heard a sound he was sure he recognized but couldn't remember, of metal releasing metal. Then, the end of his chain was in Stark's hand, leading him out.

* * *

A/N: Seems Loki's developed a bit of Stockholm syndrome now. And after doing a little bit of research, it appears I unintentionally presented a form of torture called "white torture", yikes. Needless to say, I'm a little creeped out, lol.


	4. Chapter 4

**Warnings this chapter:** rape, angst (is there ever _not_ angst?)

A/N: This chapter's a bit shorter than usual, but it felt necessary to confine what happens in it to one chapter. Fairly explicit rape scene here, one of the few in the story.

* * *

**_Hollow Skies - Chapter 4_**

The house was exactly as Loki remembered it. The smooth furniture he was never allowed to touch, the cool floor, the glass walls and the great black piano. Loki kept his hands curled up protectively to his chest and kept his head low.

Nothing had changed. It was as if all that time, that horrid time in the penetrating black hadn't happened. That he had never been alone - agonizingly alone - for so long, trapped in the eternal night. He wanted to forget it; to work with Stark in his workshop and eat food and drink water. He didn't care about whatever the inventor did to him, he just _didn't want to be alone_. Never again, _no please, never ever again._ He could take pain, even constant torture, but not _that_. How could simple loneliness and darkness eat at him so? The excruciating lack of everything, of _anything_ was unbearable.

No. _Anything _is better than _nothing_.

So Loki decided right then, no more escapist thoughts, no more plans against his captor. There was light at the end of this tunnel and he wasn't about to chase it away with foolish fantasies.

* * *

Stark led Loki into the expansive kitchen the second day of his liberation from the dark. He taught him how to make something called 'coffee' then instructed Loki to bring him some every morning. The trickster frowned a little, wondering how he was to do that if he was locked in his cell. He didn't ask since the mortal was now showing him various other machines in the kitchen. Something called a 'refrigerator', which Loki noted was quite handy, and other machines including a toaster, a dishwasher, a trash compactor, an espresso maker, and half a dozen other confusing kitchen appliances. He also showed him the stove and the oven, although Loki knew enough about cooking to guess their function.

_Does he expect me to cook for him?_ Loki was suddenly anxious, he didn't know how to cook. Being a prince in Asgard meant that servants always brought him food every meal. As if reading the trickster's mind - or perhaps his expression - Stark also showed Loki how to use the 'internet' to find instructions on how to cook. The 'tablet' was quite interesting, although Loki had little time to fully explore it so he set it delicately back down on the table.

Next, Stark took Loki down to his familiar workshop and the god was quite glad that it also had changed little. The colorful cars still lined the far side, and various pieces of machinery lay strewn across the floor.

"So," Stark said as they worked, "you'll still sleep in your cell, but I'll leave the door open." Loki dared a glance at him then, uncertain how he should react. "But, the second you step out of line, the door goes shut, and no more mister nice guy."

Loki nodded profusely in understanding, shrinking back in his chair. "I-I will cause no trouble," he said while staring at the object in his hands.

Stark _tisked_, "Don't make me regret letting you out again."

Loki nodded again.

For the rest of the day, Stark informed Loki of all the things he would be expected to do. Cleaning and maintaining the house, ordering food and groceries, and other assorted responsibilities.

He was also expected to perform what the inventor called 'relaxing techniques' for him. Apparently, Stark liked the occasional massage or foot rub - which Loki soon came to despise, not because of the acts themselves, which were made all the worse when the inventor kept complimenting him on his 'long elegant fingers', but because they put Stark in a 'sensual' mood, which was never a good thing for the god.

* * *

A few days after being given instructions on how to maintain the house, Stark called Loki into his bedroom, the normally clear glass windows that lined the room now opaque, something that made Loki nervous. He hoped the windows being darkened only meant that the mortal didn't wish to see the night sky... He internally scoffed, what a ridiculous thought.

Stark himself stood quietly by his bed, arms crossed, eyeing the dark-haired god. Loki kept his head down and stood silently by the door, awaiting Stark's instructions.

"Come here," said Stark casually. Loki obeyed, stopping a few steps away from the mortal, eyes fixed on Stark's bare feet. "I said: come _here_, not stop a few feet away." Loki winced but immediately walked a few steps forward, trying futilely to shrink in on himself, arms crossed protectively over his chest. _What's this about?_ he wondered. "On the bed," came Stark's next order. Loki blinked several times and made his way to the bed, wondering if he should lay face-up or face-down. He opted for the latter since he was certain what the mortal was about to do next, and didn't wish to be flipped over; it saved time, and he didn't wish to linger here any longer than he had to.

He heard the distinctive sound of a zipper and flinched, never able to control that particular reflex. He didn't dare look at Stark, so he stared at the opposite wall with his head turned.

"Up on your knees," said Stark, his voice neither excited nor forceful, just... level, as though he were discussing the weather or some other equally mundane thing.

Loki obeyed, the chain of his leash jingling with the movement; he always hated the vulnerability of this position. If he had any pride or dignity left, he would have also hated it for the inherent humiliation such a position would cause. He hoisted up on his hands as well, not wanting to put his backside up in the air like some animal in heat.

_What is this? _Loki wondered again. Stark always did what he wanted with him, manhandling him into positions he preferred. He never gave Loki _instructions_ to do it _himself_.

"Good," said the inventor plainly.

The bed dipped behind Loki and he flinched a little when he felt Stark's arousal touch him. The trickster shivered, waiting for Stark to begin so he would be that much closer to it ending.

The inventor laid a hand lightly on Loki's lower back. "Spread your legs a little more," he said, still in such a casual tone. _What?_ Loki would have grumbled if he were even capable of doing such a thing in Stark's presence. He obeyed, regardless. "And," continued the mortal, "down on your forearms. You'll be there soon enough, anyway." Loki lowered his head for a moment, then did as he was told. _Wonderful_, he thought. He _still_ ended up in the position he had tried to avoid.

Without warning the inventor shoved into Loki and the trickster couldn't help the squeak that escaped his throat. He grit his teeth as the mortal pushed in deep, and forced himself to not pull away. _Breathe, breathe, breathe_. He had learned long ago not to hold his breath as it often caused him to pass out - which might have been ideal if it didn't make Stark angry.

Stark didn't pause, immediately pulling out and stabbing back in. Loki made a strangled pained noise and buried his face in the covers. He felt two warm hands on his hips, holding him in place, while the mortal's thrusts became more steady. Warm liquids poured down his legs and he knew he'd be forced to clean up after it was over. He gripped desperately at the sheets near his head, instinctively trying to steady himself and maintain some sort of control, however small and futile.

He heard Stark grunting and breathing hard, and tried his best to keep quiet himself, although he mostly failed, a whimper escaping with almost every harsh thrust.

Suddenly, he heard the mortal's voice, although it was difficult to hear over the disturbing sound of flesh impacting flesh. "Loki..." said Stark between breaths. Loki couldn't conjure words to acknowledge him. "Loki," he said again. He then stopped while fully inside the trickster, holding the shaking hips. Loki felt Stark lean closer to him, over him, breaths ragged. "Who...who do you belong to?"

Loki's heart was beating harshly in his chest, but he gathered himself and answered shakily, "You."

"Oh?" said Stark, breaths tickling Loki's back. "Who do you _belong_ to?"

The god answered again. "To you... I-I belong to you." Loki whimpered when Stark unexpectedly pulled out a little then shoved back in quickly.

"For how long?"

Loki didn't like these questions, he had no control over his answers, his mouth moved without his permission. He whimpered again and grit his teeth before saying: "Forever."

"Are you mine?" asked Stark, leaning closer.

"Yes," he answered immediately.

"Are you _mine_?" A single slow thrust.

Loki was crying, his face streaked with tears. "Yes," he breathed out in a pained whisper.

"_Are you mine?!_" Stark's grip on his hips was bruising.

"_Yes!_" Loki sobbed into the sheets.

Suddenly Loki's whole body shook with sobs as he wailed into the sheets for the rest of the ordeal. He couldn't feel his body anymore, and he was glad of it. Stark continued and Loki's mind felt as though it was filled with sand - like an hourglass filled to the brim but with nowhere for the sand to go.

He _hated_ saying those words but they slipped out anyway, not even a moment's hesitation. He hated it because it was _true_. Stark held the god's will as assuredly as he did one of his machines. That's why he cried, why he sobbed until the wetness covered the sheets and he couldn't cry anymore.

He _did_ belong to the mortal now and there was nothing he could do about it.

The rest of the night Loki barely remembered as he blankly cleaned up the bed and stumbled back to his cold cell.

* * *

The next day Stark left him alone, although he was still expected to perform his household duties, which the trickster did in a daze. But at the end of the day he snapped back to himself, his instinct for survival suddenly kicking in as he watched the inventor saunter out of his workshop. What had happened was not important. It was no great revelation. Everything that he had said to the mortal Loki already knew.

It didn't matter. There was nothing to be done. Of all the injustices Stark had inflicted on him... No, it didn't matter... _It could be worse,_ he told himself, _it could be worse it could be worse_.

So he shook himself and continued about his day, ignoring every desolate thought that entered his mind.

* * *

A/N: I hope it's clear what's going on in this chapter - what Stark's trying to do; I'm not usually one for arbitrary rape scenes (or torture, etc).


	5. Chapter 5

**Warnings this chapter: **some non-con, bit of violence (not really anything)

A/N: Sorry for the delay, guys, been busy, busy, busy!

* * *

**_Hollow Skies - Chapter_****_ 5_**

_"Loki!" _Stark's voice on the air.

The trickster heard his name through the haze of sleep. He jerked up immediately and spoke to the ceiling, "Y-yes, sir?"

_"Make something, I'm hungry,"_ he ordered through the communication system.

Loki winced, his injuries were barely healed and walking only made it worse. Just _this morning_ Stark had sauntered into his cell to rape him, unfortunately while Loki was sleeping - or trying to sleep - and only a few hours later he was requesting food. Still, the god did as he was told and walked to the elevator to make his way to the kitchen.

Two weeks after their 'arrangement' Stark had given Loki a pair of pants to wear when he worked around the house. They were black and loose, but Loki couldn't help but beam at the idea of _clothing_. For something to cover him when he slept. Stark said it didn't change anything and when he told him to, Loki would remove it. _Gladly_, Loki had thought, too happy about even _having_ clothing to worry about that. The god wasn't expecting the meager cloth to protect him from Stark, just from the cold.

The already very drunk Stark was punching seemingly random numbers on the microwave when the trickster approached. "Where the hell you been?" Stark slurred.

Loki arranged the dangling chain of his leash so it trailed down his back, as he always did when cooking. "I...you just now called me." He wore a grimace as he walked painfully toward Stark but made a point to stay more than an arm's length away; the mortal was not a man to be near when he was drunk.

"Don-Don't make excuses, make something!" he slapped the counter top which made Loki jump.

The trickster nodded and moved to make something simple, he doubted the drunk would know the difference anyway.

Stark backed up a few paces, then grabbed the glass tumbler from the island behind them, taking a drink, then another. Loki tried his best to move quickly, but the pain ripped through his body and he inevitably slowed down after a few minutes. His breath came in pants and he had to lean on the counter on occasion, to keep from falling.

"I like-like th'way you breathe," Tony mumbled into his glass behind the busy trickster.

Loki froze. He knew that tone, _no no no, not now, please not now_. Stark was walking toward him slowly with drunken steps. _No please... just some more time?_ Nothing was worse than being assaulted _twice_. Adding injuries to existing injuries was incredibly painful. He didn't turn around, he just stared at nothing straight ahead, trembling slightly, unable to move.

The god felt the jerk of his collar as Stark suddenly dragged him using the chain - as best he could without stumbling - over to the dining room table. Loki yelped when he was pushed harshly against the table, his stomach flat on the surface and his legs off. Only the tips of his toes reached the floor as he struggled for balance. His face was already streaked with tears, the table gripped tightly.

Fumbling hands pulled on his waistband, exposing his backside.

"Please, _please_ not right now," Loki begged through his tears.

"The hell're you saying?" slurred Stark as he unzipped his own trousers.

"P-Please don't do this...I-I still haven't healed, it hurts _so much_ when you-" a vicious hand in Loki's hair pushed his head harshly into the table. He cried out but said nothing further.

Stark's warmth on his backside sent shivers up Loki's spine. "What...the _hell_ do I care about that?" Loki sobbed into the table, body shaking violently, wishing it to be over soon.

He waited for the familiar searing pain - which was always worse when he was already injured - but instead he felt...cold.

There was a thud behind him, like a body falling. Loki didn't know what to do, _what's happening?_ So he cried quietly into the table, waiting for something to happen.

But nothing happened.

He dared to turn around and lean up a little. _Stark? Where's he gone?_ Loki peered around the room but didn't see him until- the inventor was on the floor, out cold. _What?_ The god slowly eased back on to his feet, pulled up his trousers and stood up straight, mindful not to step on his captor.

_He was drunk..._very_ drunk. _Loki almost laughed to himself but the act seemed too foreign so he just stared. Whenever Stark passed out Loki always returned to what he was last ordered to do, or he went back to his cell; so, he went back to the kitchen and continued making the food Stark had requested. _Hopefully he will be in a more forgiving mood if he has food waiting for him when he wakes_, Loki reasoned, although it was doubtful.

As he reached for the eggs, the voice of Jarvis filled the air.

_"Sir, Agents Barton and Romanoff are at the door."_

Loki dropped the egg he was holding, he didn't hear it when it crack on the floor. Some loud _pinging_ noise resounded all around. Loki couldn't feel his face, he couldn't feel_ anything_.

_"Sir?"_

The pinging noise filled the air again, Loki was sure he was about to vomit. The only thing that kept him from doing so was the thought that Stark would be angry if he vomited on any of his nice machines. Other, more helpful, thoughts wouldn't form. All he could think was that Stark was going to be angry. _Angry angry angryangryangry._ Loki started crying again, he stumbled to a corner of the kitchen furthest from the entrance, beside the windows.

The sound pinged again, then a loud banging, then a muffled voice calling his captor's name.

Loki curled into the corner and pulled his knees up to his chest and hid his face in his arms. _No no no no no..._ He didn't know what else to think, he couldn't even feel his body. There weren't supposed to be people outside, there weren't supposed to be people _at all._ He hadn't seen a single soul outside of Stark for so long he had nearly forgotten the rest of the world existed. _Wake up wake up._ He wanted Stark to wake up and tell him what to do; should he stay here? Should he return to his cell? Should he let the people in? Would Stark want him to protect him if they were intruders?

He heard the door open.

* * *

A/N: I know! It's an evil cliffhanger; and it's a shorter chapter, too. I'll try and update as soon as possible so I won't leave you guys hanging. Early next week, most likely. I'll try Monday or Tuesday, but it might not be until Wednesday.

For some reason I find drunk!Stark funny - well, not where Loki is concerned, of course, but he keeps passing out and having issues because of his drunkenness. Sorta humorous, if in a dark way in this case.


	6. Chapter 6

**Warnings this chapter: **none

A/N: As promised, here is the next chapter! You guys can thank a certain Guest reviewer who gave a really awesome and long review for my story - I've been really busy and didn't really have time to upload this, but alas, her/his review got me to squeeze in the time (yes, your puppy eyes worked; why do you think I love Loki so much? XD). Thanks so much for your lovely words! Reviews like that keep us writers going. ^^ And thank you to all my other reviewers, as well, I love you guys!

* * *

**_Hollow Skies - Chapter 6_**

Loki buried his face further into his knees, wishing the people away. A medium-sized table with chairs was between him and the entrance to the kitchen, but he knew it wouldn't hide him from whoever was invading.

"Stark?" a woman's voice floated toward him. _No no no, not supposed to be here. He'll be angry...angryangryangry..._

"What, is he not home?" a familiar man's voice said.

"I don't think so, Jarvis said he was here."

"Hm, right," said the man.

"Jarvis?" her voice was a little louder.

_"Yes, Agent Romanoff?"_

"Where's Tony, you said he was here."

_"Indeed I did, it appears he is unconscious in the dining room."_

"What?!" yelled the man.

Loki felt panic rising. They would have to pass through the kitchen to get to the dining room. They would _see_ him. _No please, wake up wake up!_

Two feet shuffled quickly in his direction. Loki didn't dare look up, he _couldn't_.

"Oh my- the hell- what the _fuck_?" yelled the man, so close now, _too close!_

"Tony!" yelled the woman as he heard her feet moving across the floor.

Loki heard a strange sound next, very close to his head, like a string being pulled taut.

"Tasha!" screamed the man. "What the hell- what are we supposed to-"

The woman didn't seem to hear him, "Stark's okay, just unconscious like Jarvis said," her voice was nearing. "Although he smells like he took a bath with everything in his liquor cabinet. What the hell is _he_ doing here?"

"Hey!" yelled the man. Loki still couldn't look up. "Hey! Loki!"

He heard the woman moving, getting closer. "Loki?" she said. "Clint, back up a little, I think you can shoot him fine without being in his face."

Loki didn't hear a response but he did hear the sound of a string untightening slightly - the man didn't move away, though. _What's happening?_

"Loki?" said the woman, her voice was blank but not exactly hard. "Can you hear me?" There was a light hand suddenly on Loki's shoulder, he jerked away and whimpered. Unfortunately the movement forced him to lift his head somewhat, and he caught a glimpse of the two intruders. The man was standing and the woman was squatting down next to the god. _So familiar... _Loki kept his knees close to his chest, but peeked over his arms at the two.

The man shifted his weight uncomfortably, "What the hell is going on, Tasha?"

The woman - _Tasha?_ - shook her head lightly, "I don't know...can you go check on Stark again? Maybe all this is related to why he's been acting so strangely lately."

"What, you think mister god of taking-over-the-world here brainwashed him or something?"

"I don't know, Clint, just go check on him."

The man sighed but did as she said.

"Loki," her voice was now calm, quiet, as though Loki were made of glass, about to shatter at the slightest provocation. "Can you speak?"

The trickster god eyed her warily for a long moment, then nodded twice and hid his face again. _No! Don't speak to them! They're intruders, not supposed to be here! He'll be angry, so angry..._

"Okay, can you tell me what you're doing here?"

Loki peeked out a little, frowned, and tried his best not to cry, the woman leaned back slightly at his expression, as though confused. Even so, he finally managed to choke out his words, "I...I..." Loki didn't know what to say, he didn't know the answer to that question. "I was...m-making Stark some food."

The woman's eyes widened slightly as she furrowed her brow. Then she nodded slowly. _Does she truly understand? _Loki doubted it.

The man returned and sighed as he spoke, "Yeah, he's fine. Might have bumped his head a little, but he's okay. Drunken idiot..." he mumbled. "And him?"

She looked up at her partner then back at Loki, "He said..." she hesitated. "He said he was making...food."

"Food?"

"For Stark."

"Say what?"

"And just look at him, Clint." She waved a hand in Loki's direction, Loki flinched. "He's...hurt. And," she leaned closer to the god, he whimpered, "he's bleeding. Look at his head. Not to mention," she chuckled humorlessly, "everywhere else." Her scrutiny made the trickster try to hide away, _get_ away.

The man nodded, eyeing Loki. "You still haven't told me what you think's going on here."

"Look at this," the woman raised a hand, which now gripped the end of Loki's chain. "What-"

Loki hid his face in his arms quickly and tried to push himself further into the wall. He ignored the pain the movement caused and gripped his knees tighter. He started shaking, then crying again. His words trembled when he spoke, "P-Please, _please_ don't touch that...He'll...he'll be angry if you- just leave me alone, I- please don't make me do anything."

"Don't touch what, Loki?" she said.

The trickster lifted his head slightly to peer at the chain in her hands, "Th-that." He continued to stare at the metal for a moment, then buried his tear-streaked face in his arms again. _No one's supposed to touch it! _Stark even got angry at _Loki _if he found him fiddling with the metal chain. Whenever Stark wanted him to do something, when he wanted Loki's full attention - not that he ever _didn't_ give his full attention - he would hold the chain. It was now just another part of the god of mischief, another limb.

"Why don't you want me touching this, Loki?"

The mortal man mumbled something about the collar around Loki's neck, but Loki was too busy trying not to run away or to run to Stark's side to scream at him to wake up.

The woman tried again, "Loki. Why shouldn't I touch this?"

He finally looked up, but kept his gaze on the chain tight in her hands. "He won't like it, won't like it. Only he can hold it. _Please _put it down, he'll be angry with me..." Loki trailed off and stifled a sob.

Both intruders were silent a moment, Loki returned his face to his knees.

"Tasha," said the man in a strangely wary tone, "I know that look on your face, what're you gonna do?"

She didn't answer him, instead directing her attention to the trembling trickster, "Hey, Loki?" He peered at her nervously. "Stand up for me, will you?" Loki immediately shook his head, but she was adamant, "Now." The god looked at the chain in her hand, then back at her, then back at the chain.

"P-Please don't make me-" he cried.

"I said now, Loki." The woman was relentless, her partner eyed both her and the god curiously. When the man tried to ask her what she was doing she shushed him.

Loki didn't know why, but he found himself attempting to stand. His body screamed at him, but he absolutely felt _compelled _to stand. _What am I doing?_ He stumbled to his feet, using the wall for support. He leaned back against it on shaky legs.

"Good," she said. Her words reminding him so much of Stark. But it was wrong, _wrong_. She wasn't Stark. _He'll be so angry with me, so angry. Don't listen to her!_ "Now, Loki..." her voice was in his head, telling him what to do. "Come with me to the living room."

Loki shook his head again at the order, but found his legs already moving, following her - or as best he could.

The man - _an archer?_ Loki noticed the bow slung across his back - walked backwards then stopped a few steps away, allowing the other two space. The god tried his best to shrink into himself while walking, arms hugging his chest, although it was difficult to appear smaller when the other two were so much shorter.

The woman walked backwards in front of the mischief god, pulling him with the leash as if guiding him as he hobbled along. They entered the living room.

"This way," she said in a calm voice. _Why is she taking me there?_ Loki was wary of the archer behind him, although he was not following too closely. "Now sit here," she indicated the corner of the couch on the left side.

This time Loki felt panic rising. "No...please don't make me. I don't- I _can't_- he'll- I'm not supposed to sit on-on-on anything," the trickster stammered. _Please no no no..._

"Loki..." her voice was a warning, stern but still calm.

The tears came automatically as he shook his head, "Please no, please no...I'm not supposed-"  
"I know, but you can sit now. Sit down."

Loki was wracked with sobs as he sat down gingerly on the very edge. He let out a strangled whimper but grit his teeth at the pressure which caused pain to shoot up his spine. He briefly wondered how he had managed to sit so long on that hard floor before the woman's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Loki..." she was eyeing him curiously, there was something in her expression the god didn't quite recognize. "Are you in pain?"

Loki stared at the floor, utter confusion on his face; he didn't understand the question. He was never _not_ in pain.

"Clint," she turned her head to her partner, he looked at her questioningly. "Unzip your pants for me."

"What?!" he asked, incredulous.

"Humor me," she said.

"What- why-"

"Seriously, just...humor me."

He stared at her for a second, then shrugged and sighed. He reached down and unzipped his jeans without preamble. Immediately, Loki whimpered and jerked back, then scrambled backward on the couch with pained noises. The god whimpered out, "No, no please don't, I didn't mean it...don't..." He hugged his chest more and started trembling again, staring at the floor. Even Loki didn't understand his own words, his instincts driving him.

"What the hell was that," said the archer flatly.

"Oh my God..." whispered the woman still holding Loki's chain.

"What?"

She straightened herself, then turned to face the other mortal, "Really, Barton? Are you that blind?"

The man frowned and glared at the other two, "I don't know," he crossed his arms. "Why don't you just spell it out for me?"

There was a silence for a moment, then, "Best guess, it's a conditioned response."

"It's- what?" said the archer.

"Look," the woman began, "the first sign," she held up the chain in her hand. "Loki here doesn't want to listen to us, yet when I order him to do something while holding this, he listens."

"Oh come on, for all we know he would have listened...anyway..." he trailed off, apparently rethinking his words.

She nodded, amused, "Maybe. But I don't think so. He begged me to put it down, then asked me not to make him do anything. He also shook his head and refused to move, despite the fact that he was doing exactly that."

"Right," he drawled.

"And now, after you unzipped your pants-"

"Yeah, how's that?"

"Another conditioned response," she turned slightly around to eye Loki, who continued staring at the ground as he sniffled occasionally.

The man sighed, "To what, exactly?"

She raised a brow, "If I had to guess: rape."

The archer stared at her for a moment, then said flatly: "What."

She looked back at him, "You heard me. There's not a lot that can break someone like this - especially someone like Loki - but there's always something. And in this case, I'd say rape."

"Stop saying that!" he yelled, disgust in his voice. "You are _not_ seriously saying that _Tony Stark_, okay, _Iron Man_, raped a super-villain Norse god."

"No," she said slowly. "I'm saying Tony Stark not only raped a super-villain Norse god," the mortal man scoffed, "but that he's probably been doing it for some time - what with this level of blind obedience. Not to mention, where's Loki's shirt anyway? And look at how beat-up he is. And, really, _this_," she held up the end of Loki's leash.

The man shook his head, "This is crazy, I can't- are you _serious_? It doesn't make any fucking _sense_!"

"You're right," she looked back at Loki. "But all evidence points to it." She looked to her partner. "Stark's been acting stranger and stranger these last few months - hell, this last year. We thought it was his break-up with Pepper, but it's obviously been...something else."

"What, oh yeah, I'm sure his behavior points directly to 'Norse god sex slave'!" He sighed loudly, frustrated. "Look. Why don't we just ask him? Loki, I mean."

"Would you believe him?" asked the woman.

He shrugged, "Why not?! This whole thing's out of control anyway! Ask away!"

Loki stared warily at the two, uncertain what to make of their conversation. The second they looked back toward him he lowered his gaze to the floor.

The woman sat next to him on the couch and Loki tried to inch away. She didn't stop him.

"Loki?" her voice was soft again. The other mortal scoffed but said nothing. The trickster flicked his eyes in her direction a moment hoping that would indicate he was listening. She nodded, "How long have you been here? With Stark, I mean."

Loki furrowed his brow, he honestly didn't know. He shrugged one shoulder and eyed the floor, still thinking.

"What date do you last remember? Can you remember that for me?"

The trickster sifted through his memory. Everything was so _hazy_, everything before...before Stark, and the darkness, the loneliness... He shook his head in thought, a date flying out to him suddenly, "M-May...s-seventh?"

"May seventh?" said the man.

The woman pressed closer, "That was almost a year ago, Loki."

_A year...a-a year? How can that be?_ Loki stared at nothing, wide-eyed. _A year? Is that all it's been? That's how long I've..._

"Shit," said the man suddenly, covering his mouth with one hand for a moment. "Did you think about...Tasha..." She lifted her eyebrows to him. "Thor is _so_ gonna kill Stark."

Loki suddenly felt a surge of panic run through him, "No no no no!_ Get away from me!_ You're not supposed to be in here! Get out, get out!" _Not that name! _He stumbled off of the couch and scrambled on the floor away from them. The red-headed woman had let go of the chain in shock at the sudden outburst. "Please, _please_ just leave. He'll be angry with me, please just leave." Loki was crying again, crawling across the floor to get away.

"Loki," the woman stood up and approached with placating raised hands. "We're not going to hurt you, _Stark's_ not going to hurt you, not anymore."

"He'll hurt me, he'll hurt me, he'll go away again, go away for so so long." He stared at the floor with teary eyes, "He'll go away and I'll be alone, so alone..." He continued backing up until he hit a wall, breathing hard. "I don't like the dark, _please_ don't put me in the dark again, _please_! I'll do anything!"

"It's okay, it's okay, Loki, shh shh," the woman soothed. "No one's going to...put you in the dark again, I promise."

She approached him slowly, then crouched next to him as Loki hid, once again, behind his knees. _Not that name not that name it doesn't exist. He'll put me in the dark again no more no more please don't. Not that name..._

A gruff voice broke the air, "What the hell? What are you two doing here?"

* * *

A/N: Yes, yes, I realize this is _another_ cliffhanger. Sorry, couldn't be helped. But at least this was a longer chapter! ;D

I wasn't sure how to go with Natasha and Clint's responses, but I figured even they would feel bad for Loki in his current state. Hope you guys liked the chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

**Warnings this chapter: **none

A/N: Meant to upload this yesterday but life got in the way *stupid life* ;D. I'm sure you guys are eager to read this chapter, so here ya gooo!

(P.S. thank you to all my reviewers and favers/followers, I don't always reply to reviews, or can't if you're a guest, so thanks!)

* * *

**_Hollow Skies - Chapter 7_**

The god of mischief couldn't comprehend what was going on around him. The two new mortals were shouting at Stark and Stark was shouting back. The second Loki saw Tony's gaze lock on him, the trickster scrambled as fast as he could across the floor toward him, his chain jingling as he moved.

The other two immediately stopped shouting.

Loki crawled on all fours, grasping at the floor beside Stark's legs in desperation as he hung his head between his arms, prostrated. "Please, please, please," Loki sobbed. "I didn't let them in, I didn't- I didn't- you fell asleep- you fell and I just- was hiding- they came in, I didn't let them in- _please_ don't lock me in the room again-"

He felt a soft hand on his head, Loki couldn't bring himself to look up, he couldn't catch his breath, he thought he would pass out. He just watched the small tear-puddle that was forming on the floor.

"Stark, _what. the. fuck!_" shouted the archer.

The room erupted in screams again and Loki grasped tightly to the bottom of Stark's pant-leg with one hand as he remained prostrate, unable to move except to tremble uncontrollably. _He knows I didn't do anything. I didn't let them in, I didn't. He'll forgive me, he's not angry not angry._

Out of the commotion Loki heard one sentence, although he wasn't certain who said it: "I'm gonna fucking tell _Thor_!"

The mischief god jumped back, away from Stark and from the other two. _Not that name, no no no nononono. He doesn't exist, he's not here... Not in my mind anymore, there's no one there only Stark only Stark..._

Silence.

Loki was sure the silence would devour him.

He felt the wall behind him, and what little air filled his lungs, but he did not see the other three in the room. He didn't see them start fighting. He didn't see the red-headed woman swiftly kick Stark until his back hit the wall. He didn't see the archer pull out an arrow and point it at the inventor. And he didn't see when everything calmed down and the woman approached him.

All he knew was that he needed to breathe, and that Stark wouldn't be angry at him because _it's not my fault I didn't do anything. He knows it he knows it, not the room please not the room, no more darkness no more... please he knows I didn't let them in he knows._

He couldn't catch his breath, it had run away into the waiting dark.

* * *

Loki awoke in a brightly lit white room on something soft. _Soft...soft..._ Loki liked the sensations, but it was _wrong_, so _wrong_. He blinked his eyes at the brightness and stared at the unfamiliar room. _Where am I?_ Panic began rising. _This isn't my cell. Tony doesn't like me sleeping anywhere but my cell._ Although he rarely slept anyway, Loki had once fallen asleep on the floor of the dining room after he finished cleaning, curled up in a ball. He had been _so _tired, and in a lot of pain. He hadn't even remembered going to sleep. As punishment, Stark had broken all the fingers on his left hand and saved the right, because he needed his coffee in the morning. _Where am I? I can't be sleeping here!_

Loki quickly fell off the bed, then backed himself into the nearest corner.

He was wearing a strange white tunic, and loose white trousers underneath. _Why am I wearing these? Did Stark give them to me?_ He peered around nervously, he still didn't recognize the room. It had white walls and no window. There was a glass sliding door on the other side of the bed and several rectangular bright lights embedded into the ceiling. There was also a small table next to the bed with nothing on it.

The trickster flinched when the opaque glass doors opposite the bed slid open. A blonde woman in a mint colored shirt walked in, then after seeing Loki in the corner, gasped and rushed out, the door sliding shut behind her. Loki hid in the corner, then decided the underside of the the bed might hide him better, so he crawled as quickly as he could under it, making sure the long chain of his leash didn't stick out. He laid on his side, balled up, feeling slightly better in the familiar position. Even the cold floor was familiar, if as uncomfortable as always.

Suddenly the door slid open again, as several feet filled his vision.

A young woman was yelling, "Sir! You cannot come in here! The director-"

Next, a familiar deep male voice spoke, "I have spoken with your director, lady of medicine, and his answers have been unsatisfactory. I will-" The two stopped near the foot of the bed. "Where is my brother?" There was a pause. "Is this a trick?"

"No, sir," came the woman's voice. "I don't understand, he was just here..."

"Where?"

The woman walked a few steps toward Loki's first corner, he quietly turned on his other side to follow their feet. "He was here, just...crouching down like he was...scared."

The man said nothing for a while, the echoes of his voice rattling around in Loki's head. _What did he call me?_ Then suddenly there was a face peering at Loki. He jumped and backed away from the lady's face.

"Oh, he's down here..." she said.

Then suddenly the man's face was next to the woman- _no no no...not possible, he's not real! This isn't real. Just a dream, just a dream._

"Loki!"

The trickster shut his eyes tight and scooted away as much as he could, _just leave me alone, you're not real! Never real!_

"Loki?"

Suddenly, two arms gripped Loki from behind, hauling him up off the floor. He screamed at the intrusive touch, "No! Let me go! _Let me go!_"

The man-who-wasn't-real stood up off the floor, then yelled at the man holding Loki, "Release him at once! You are hurting him!" The arm around the mischief god's waist let up immediately and Loki scrambled away from the three people, trying to find some place to hide. The door behind the grabbing-man was closed and there were too many people on the other side of the room. "Leave!" yelled the not-real-man to the grabbing-man.

Loki, surprised by the voice, whimpered and crawled quickly into the corner next to the entrance. He hid behind his arms and knees once again, wondering where Stark was. He needed Stark to tell him what to do. _Who are all these people?_ The not-real-man surely would go away soon, he wasn't real, after all. He was just a fantasy lost in the writhing dark. No more real than freedom or happiness or hope. Loki would have laughed at him if he weren't so afraid. _Look at you, walking about in front of me and ordering real people around! Ha! _When did phantoms command flesh and blood? _Has the world changed so much since last I saw it?_

But now the fake-man was talking, "Loki," he said. _How does he speak so softly, this shade of a man?_ "Please, Loki..." The voice was coming closer, so close now, so close.

"You're not real," Loki said through muffled sobs. _When did I start crying?_

"Loki?"

"Not real, you're not real..." _I will not look up._

"Of course I am...how can you say such a thing?"

"Some things aren't real," the trickster said, face still buried. "Some things...like hope, and happiness, they're not real. Freedom, that's not real, either."

There was a long pause, Loki continued crying into his arms. Until, "And what is real, brother." The voice was so low, so delicate. It didn't sound right, Loki wasn't sure why.

Loki finally looked up, he couldn't help it, his voice shook, "Pain..." The blonde man's face contorted, trying to keep something away. "And...misery...and-and blood..." Loki watched the man's face, fascinated that someone who didn't exist could look so sad. "And also...the dark. Always the dark is real. Such an abyss." The trickster stared at the ground with wide unblinking eyes. He saw a wet drop fall somewhere near the other man's familiar boots, but he didn't know where it came from. _Is it raining? _Loki looked back up at the man slowly, "How can you not know only these things are real?"

The blonde crouched down and sat on the floor in front of the trickster. Loki didn't notice that there was now no one else in the room. Right now, there was only this phantom sitting before him, breathing with such a similar breath, such a familiar lightning-blue gaze.

"Where did you go, brother?" asked the fake-man, the question deeper than Loki could ever understand.

Loki tilted his head and looked at nothing, not hearing the question. "Do you hear thunder in the sky?" His gaze moved upward as he smiled with open mouth at the ceiling. "I like the rain... it reminds me of..." His smile faded, thoughts moving like raindrops across a window, and his eyes moved down, down, down. "Thor?" Loki furrowed his brow, wondering how he had wandered into a dream.

There were tears in the thunder god's eyes, his voice was thick, "Yes, brother, it is I."

"How have you wandered into my dream?" the trickster asked with another tilt of his head.

"This is not a dream, brother." Thor tried to reach out to touch Loki's face, but the smaller god leaned back from the hand.

"Don't be silly, of _course_ it's dream. You can't really be here, you're never really here." Loki smiled and was confused by the distressed look on the other god's face. "Would you...like a hug?" he asked innocently. _Surely the figment of my brother will feel better with a hug. I can't have such a pleasant dream turn sour because of an upset Thor._ So Loki reached out and grasped his dream-brother around the chest. But the older god responded with quiet sobs. "Why are you crying, Thor? You're ruining such a nice dream with all this blubbering," he chided affectionately. Even as the crying softened, Loki felt the familiar strong arms wrap around him.

Loki sighed contentedly, closed his eyes, then inhaled his brother's scent - like cool air after a storm. _How strange. Such a realistic dream. He even smells like Thor._ The younger god held on tight, not wanting the dream to end, not wanting to wake up cold and hungry and in pain on the desolate grey floor.

"Loki," Thor finally spoke after a few moments, "what is this metal around your neck, and...this chain." He held up the end of the chain. Loki froze and jerked back against the wall, hitting his back. _No_, he scolded himself, _he's not real, just a dream remember? And besides, what does it matter if Thor has the chain? He would never hurt you._ Loki swallowed his fear then leaned forward again to hug Thor. He wanted this wonderful dream to last as long as possible, he didn't want to scare the dream-figments away. "You don't need to hold the chain, brother, I'll do anything you say anyway," Loki chuckled into the metal chest.

"_What?_" whispered Thor. The chain clanged to the floor. Loki nuzzled his forehead into Thor's neck, trying to indicate that he wanted his big brother to hug him back once again. Thor obliged, but then lifted himself up and dragged Loki along. The trickster didn't mind, he was just happy Thor - or as close as he could get to the real thing - was returning his affection.

Loki didn't heed Thor's confusion. "It's been so long since I've dreamed of you, brother. It used to be almost every night, but now..." Loki shook his head, "It doesn't matter, you're here now."

The door suddenly slid open as two figures walked in. Loki stared at them, they stared back. _Don't be afraid_, he told himself, _they're not real, either._

"How did you two get into my dream?" Loki eyed them suspiciously and clung to Thor. "I don't like you here, go away!" With that, the trickster turned his head on the other side and held fast to his older brother.

"Uh, what?" said the archer.

Thor's voice rumbled through his chest, "It seems my brother believes he is dreaming. That none of us are real."

The woman's voice was next, "It's actually not that surprising if you think about it, given what he's been through." Loki wanted the two to go away. "He's probably had to rearrange his hold on reality to get through...everything..." Her voice trailed off.

Thor began walking slowly backward, bringing Loki with him. The smaller god wondered what he was doing, before he realized his big brother was trying to sit on the bed. Loki smiled a little and sat down next to him, then leaned his head on Thor's shoulder. An arm circled around the trickster and Loki leaned into him further. He wanted this dream to never end. _No, never end._

"Loki," the red-head approached him, "do you know who I am?"

Loki stared at her, thinking. Then he shook his head. The truth was, Loki hadn't given it much thought. She and the archer were both very familiar, but his mind was too busy and filled with pain and darkness to bother with checking his memories.

"I'm Natasha Romanoff," she pointed behind her, "and that's Clint Barton. We're agents of SHIELD. We used to know each other..." she smiled a little. "Well, sort of."

Loki narrowed his eyes and stared at them, thinking. _Romanoff... Barton?_ Suddenly, there was a blue cube of light somewhere in his memory...and blue eyes. So blue, unnaturally blue. And there were arrows flying by, and a glass cage, and a man with only one eye...no wait, _two_ men with only one eye. A golden city above clouds...and a silver city of lights. There was a man who hid a monster, and a man with a kind face and a shield who wore colors that were precious to him. Then there was fire, and blood, and...screams... Loki clenched his eyes shut. There was a man in front of him, he held a large metal weapon in his hands and he wore a Midgardian suit, why wear clothing with blood on it? He said something to Loki that made the trickster angry and confused, but he didn't know why. Whatever the man said, Loki knew he was right.

Then there was only Stark... Only Stark... _Only Stark._

"Do you remember us now, Loki?" the woman's gaze was unwavering, her stance steady.

Loki gripped Thor tighter as the flood of memories came crashing back. There were so many pieces missing, so many things Loki didn't understand. He hid his face in his brother's neck, then choked out, "Yes..."

* * *

A/N: Obviously this is where the 'comfort' portion of the story begins - but that doesn't mean it'll be easy! Poor Loki's got some serious issues, he basically fainted from agitation and stress. I hope Tony and Clint and Natasha's whole scene was okay - let's face it, Stark's no match for either of them without his suit. ;)

More with Loki and his big bro next chapter, at least it's not a cliffhanger this time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Warnings this chapter:** none

A/N: Well, look at that, I updated exactly one week, today. ;) Who'd have thought I could keep up with updates? Thanks again to all my readers!

* * *

_**Hollow Skies - Chapter 8**_

_This is real? No, it can't be real. Not real not real- But that would mean Thor is here...Thor can't be here, he's never here. Even when I wept and screamed for him, he's never here. Stark will be so angry Thor's here._ Loki's knuckles were white as he felt tears drip down his face onto Thor's armor.

"You're...not real..." Loki cried into his brother's armor.

"Yes we are," said Natasha Romanoff. "We're real, and so's Thor."

Loki shook his head furiously. "You're not! You _can't be_! Not Thor, not my brother..." Tears streamed down his face. "If Thor were here, then it would be over. But it can't be over, it's _never_ over. Stark will come back soon, and I'll wake. I'll be alone again and he'll hurt me more-"

"Stark?" Thor bellowed.

Natasha shifted her weight, "You...didn't know? How much did Fury tell you?"

Loki felt Thor shake his head, "Only that they found Loki and that he was in a bad way. What is this about Stark?" The question was directed at Loki, but Natasha answered instead.

"Look, Thor, there's more going on here than we know."

"Tell me," Thor ordered. His voice allowed for no arguments.

The spy sighed, "There's..." she struggled for words. "There's really no way to tell you everything without..."

"Without what, Agent Romanoff?" he said in warning.

"Without having you storm off and...killing Tony Stark."

Even without seeing his face Loki could sense the anger gathering around his brother; nevermind the crackle of thunder so near it made him jump. "Sorry, brother," Thor managed to mumble so quietly the trickster wondered if he imagined it. _Real real real real... _The words echoed around him,_ inside_ him.

"Look," now Barton was speaking, "this is a crazy situation. Hell, even _I'm_ pissed at Tony, but we can't just go off half-cocked even if-"

The man stopped suddenly, and Loki imagined the lady spy glaring at him.

_They're real? No they're not. _He shook his head as quieter thunder rumbled in the distance. _Thor's real, they're real. That thunder is real. Not a dream not a dream not a dream._ Suddenly Loki felt panic rising. _Then Stark's going to be angry! He'll put me in the room again! It'll be forever this time, forever lost and away. Too dark. No one there, not even my memories. Just the things crawling over me, eating me... _Loki began trembling, wishing Thor would hold him tighter.

"Loki?" Thor's voice was so near, _so near so near not fake, real. _"What is wrong? What has happened to you?" Thor wrapped his fingers around the side of Loki's neck with his free hand, the familiar gesture sent a wave of calm through Loki but he couldn't stop shaking.

"Thor..." came the mischief god's shaky voice, tears dropping. "D-Don't let Stark," he couldn't speak, the words were like sand in his mouth. "Please don't let him..."

"Don't let him what, brother?" Concern bled through the thunder god's voice as he gently stroked Loki's hair.

"P-Please don't let him hurt me anymore..." Loki looked straight at Thor, his face wet, "I don't want this anymore," he sobbed. "It hurts so much all the time, please _please_ don't leave me! Don't be a dream!" Thor held Loki tighter with one arm. "Please say you'll protect me, promise you'll protect me, that you won't leave ever again-"

"Loki, brother! I _will _protect you! I will!" Thor hugged him fully now, his hold so tight Loki couldn't breathe. But the younger god didn't care, he only wished Thor could hold him tighter. "I will _never_ leave you again, nothing will happen to you. I swear on Yggdrasil, on the All-Father, on the All-Mother, and on Mjolnir - I _will_ protect you."

Loki cried unashamedly into his brother's chest, relishing the feel of...the feel of... Loki couldn't place the unfamiliar feeling - couldn't _name_ it. If he were able to, the god of mischief would have cherished the word, but for now, he settled for the simple feeling that warmed every part of him, down to his bones and back again.

* * *

Thunder rumbled outside and rain fell. It crashed in angry waves against the side of the helicarrier.

Loki smiled. He loved the sound of thunder, of rain. And now, he _knew_ it was his brother's storm, _Thor's _storm. It was the most soothing sound in the world - well, next to his brother's snoring.

After Thor's vow to protect him, the suddenly livid thunder god said he would 'have words' with Stark. But Loki had panicked and nearly collapsed at the prospect of Thor leaving, and when he vomited on the floor, his big brother assured him he would not leave. Thor was obviously still angry with the man of iron, as evidenced by the storm still raging, but Loki's pleas rooted his older brother to the spot.

So now here they were. Loki still awake, enjoying the sounds of his brother sleeping against his back and of the storm raging overhead. Thor had lain next to Loki and soon fell asleep, but the trickster had become afraid suddenly. Afraid that something might happen while Thor slept. So Loki scooted backward until his back touched Thor's chest, then draped the thunderer's heavy arm across his own chest. He had smiled at the position, immediately feeling safer, the strong arm warm in his grip. _No one gets passed the god of thunder_, Loki thought with satisfaction. _And besides, Stark is nothing but a mere mortal. _Then he remembered the Iron Man suit. _No, that doesn't matter either. _He remembered the fight Stark and Thor had had in that forest so long ago, _if they had kept going, Thor would have decimated him_. Loki nodded, then settled himself against the warm body.

_Then why am I still afraid?_ He tried to shake the feeling away, but he still couldn't go to sleep.

* * *

Loki woke from his half-sleep with a start, the warmth of Thor no longer against him, the strong arm no longer draped over him. He screamed and fell off the bed, about to scoot under it once again before he heard the familiar voice.

"Loki! Brother!" The large form of Thor filled Loki's vision suddenly as the thunderer ran around the bed and leaned down. "I am sorry, I should have known." He lifted Loki up with ease and placed him on the bed. "Are you well?"

The trickster stared at Thor, wide-eyed and still frazzled. For a moment he believed it had all been a dream, that he really had not been here, so he panicked and instinctively fell off the unfamiliar softness. He hugged himself and tried to relax against the bed, mostly unsuccessfully. He nodded to Thor.

"You do not _look _well, brother. You are shaking." He leaned down and hugged Loki, then lifted the smaller god into a sitting position and rubbed his back soothingly. "I am sorry..."

Loki relaxed and sighed into the embrace and nuzzled his face into Thor's neck - his new favorite place to be. Thor's beard tickled his cheek. "It's alright, brother," Loki mumbled. "I just...I thought you weren't real again."

"I understand." The thunderer nodded for a moment. Then he let go a little and leaned back, suddenly chuckling.

"What is so funny?" Loki asked, looking up at his face.

"It is nothing...it is just..."

Loki lifted an eyebrow, "What?"

Thor smiled widely, "Well...I love it when you call me 'brother'. Like you used to-"

The trickster pushed Thor playfully, "Shut up, _Thor_." But a smile tugged at his lips.

The door suddenly slid open and Loki's smile disappeared. He didn't care who it was, he leaned back into Thor with a jerk and was pleased when his big brother wrapped protective arms around him. He hid his face in Thor's shoulder, not looking at who entered.

"Hey Thor...Loki." The quiet man's voice was not familiar.

Thor nodded in greeting, "Doctor Banner, I did not realize you were here." Loki stiffened at the name, immediately remembering the coy scientist, the mask that hid the real monster inside. "It is alright, brother, he is a friend." But Loki wasn't having it, he kept his face in Thor's shoulder and scooted closer to him.

"Actually, I've been here since he first arrived. I guess you don't remember much of that, huh?" The question was directed at Loki, but he didn't respond or care to acknowledge the mortal in the room.

"I apologize for my brother's-"

"Oh no, you don't have to, really. I get it, I do. I...still can't believe.." He paused. "Well, I'm...actually surprised to find you here, Thor. That's not exactly true, I'm surprised to find _Tony_ still here." Loki began to tremble. "What I mean is, that he's still alive, that you haven't-" The doctor sighed, "I'll just...shut up now." He chuckled awkwardly.

"I see," was all Thor said, voice flat but deep.

"Well anyway, I'm glad you didn't hurt- uh-" The trickster could _feel_ a heat rising in his brother. The scientist was quick to continue, "I mean- what I- it's just that, we've found something wrong with Tony."

Loki felt the blood leaving his head, dizziness skirting at the edges of his mind. Thor spoke, "Explain." Loki was confused, confused at Thor's sudden somber disposition. His brother was usually so boisterous, quick to anger and even quicker to forgive. Extreme emotions were as easy to him as subtlety and poise were to Loki. This..._quietness_ unnerved him.

"Uhh, well, it's hard to say. We're still doing some tests, he's under observation," he paused, presumably seeing the confusion on Thor's face. "He's...unconscious. We're not taking any risks." Loki perked up at that, and turned his head around so he could see the doctor. "Oh, hey Loki," smiled the strangely calm man as he lifted one hand in a nervous greeting. Loki again said nothing.

"So," Thor said, "what is wrong with Stark?"

Banner winced slightly and tilted his head, "Well," he said slowly, "we're not really sure just yet. But," he added at the slowly growing annoyance on the thunderer's face, "we're thinking it has something to do with the Tesseract."

Loki spoke up, "Th-The Tesseract?" he said with a quiet voice, slightly incredulous. "Do you...accuse me of-"

"On no, no," Banner quickly waved the question away, "obviously not, why would you- Never mind, we've just been finding readings in him that correspond to the energy of the Tesseract."

Thor rubbed a hand lightly on Loki's back. "And what does that mean, doctor?" Thor asked.

"Uh, well," he grimaced, obviously not wanting to answer, "we think..._maybe_ it might have caused him to..." He paused.

"To what?" asked Thor impatiently.

Banner wrung his hands nervously. "I'm just- We think that maybe..." his eyes shifted to Loki, then Thor, then to Loki again. "That maybe he wasn't in complete control of...himself...Maybe..."

Both gods stared at the doctor. Loki felt numb, like his body had disappeared. He wanted the doctor to go away. He didn't want to speak anymore, speaking and listening were _exhausting_. He just wanted to stay in Thor's warm arms forever and never have to do anything again.

"Do you mean to say," Thor began slowly, "that everything that Stark has done to my brother - that he is not responsible?" Loki suddenly whimpered and whined, clutching the front of Thor's tunic. He buried his face in his brother's shoulder, anxiety growing with his light-headedness. He didn't like their words, he wanted to sleep again; lay next to Thor and listen to the wonderous thunder and rain. _Why can't there be rain?_

"Well- I... We just don't know yet. I'm just telling you that...that it's _possible_."

Loki was fidgeting, he couldn't stop moving. Thor began rubbing his entire back with strong motions and filled his ear with soothing words. The smaller god relaxed a little and stopped moving, although he couldn't stop the slight trembling in his bones.

"Loki," Thor said, "are you alright?"

The trickster didn't answer for a moment, then shook his head reluctantly.

Banner nodded, understanding. "Look, I'm sorry...I shouldn't have brought it up-"

"No...doctor," said Thor quickly. "I thank you for informing us of...your progress..." Loki shifted uncomfortably. He was sure his older brother didn't quite know what to say; the truth was, Loki didn't quite know what to _think_.

* * *

A/N: I realize we have yet to address the fact that Loki's still wearing a collar with a chain attached, and that Thor still doesn't really know what happened to him. Don't worry, these issues will be addressed soon enough. As for what's up with the Tesseract and Tony... Some of you have already guessed there was something more wrong with him other than the obvious (the obvious being, 'Tony's evil' lol). ;)

Also, some shift in POV next chapter; so far we've only seen everything from Loki's viewpoint, so that should be interesting.

Until next time!


	9. Chapter 9

**Warnings this chapter:** quite a bit of swearing from Clint, haha. But really nothing this chapter. ;)

* * *

**_Hollow Skies - Chapter 9_**

The day after Banner's visit with the two brothers, the thunder god decided it was time to get some answers. So far everyone - yes, _everyone_ - had been avoiding telling him too much. Even Loki, who always shrunk back into himself when asked any questions about his ordeal. The medical staff always claimed to be busy and needed elsewhere whenever he asked, or referred him to Doctor Banner, who was equally reluctant to provide any information.

So Thor decided he would go straight to the top and ask - no _demand_ - Director Fury answer his questions. Some part of him didn't want to know, feeling that if everyone wished to keep it from him it must be-

He sighed and walked down the corridor which led to the director's spacious office. But as he walked he began hearing voices, hushed but agitated voices coming from a room a little ahead and to the right. The metal door was open and revealed two agents sitting in a small dark room, backs to the door. Both were men whom Thor didn't recognize, and - Thor froze and stepped back as quietly as possible. Standing to both sides of the men were Barton and Romanoff, and it was they who were arguing with each other. The thunderer wasn't certain _why_ he was hiding, but for some reason he felt the need to.

"I really can't fucking believe this," came Barton's hushed voice. "Did he really-? Damn..." Thor imagined the archer shaking his head.

"Clint," said Natasha, voice also low. "You know he keeps surveillance twenty-four seven, even in his tower? Why wouldn't he do it in his _home_?"

A pause. "I don't know, I guess... after what happened, to have recordings of it - _video footage_, it's just... sick, somehow..."

"What? You think he watched them or something?"

Barton snorted. "Shit, I hope not. That would elevate this to a whole new level of fucking _wrong_. If that's even possible."

Thor peered inside, hoping the agents wouldn't see him. There were several flat screens in front of them that played images, and the two who were seated seemed to be increasing the speed that the video played, occasionally slowing it down.

"Why the hell do we even need to go through this sick shit?" asked Barton, slight disgust in his voice.

Natasha sighed. "Fury said he wanted at least one of the Avengers to help go through it-"

"Great. That means I can leave-"

"Clint." The woman's tone was even, but with a hint of warning. "No fucking way."

The archer made a strange low whining noise - most likely in jest - that might have made Thor laugh any other time.

The video stopped for a moment and played, and Thor immediately recognized it as Stark's home, the image displaying his living room. It paused for a moment, then played, showing a half-naked and barefoot Loki walking across the floor behind Stark, who, to Thor's quickly rising anger, held the chain that connected to Loki's collar.

Although the bruises littering his brother's body made Thor want to smash the screens with Mjolnir, it was Loki's _attitude_ that stopped him. He was... calm, blank even, and _complying_. With Loki's strength he could have snapped Tony's neck in an instant, especially since Stark was without his Iron Man suit. The implications of _why_ his brother would be so docile, so... tame, made his blood boil.

Thor must have moved, or made a noise, since suddenly Romanoff's face was in front of him, eyes wide - at least for a moment, then her usual indifferent mask replaced the obvious surprise.

"Thor..."

Barton quickly moved to block the footage, looking suddenly nervous, as though he expected Mjolnir to remove him at any moment.

"Thor," said Romanoff again when Thor didn't even look her way. The god suddenly realized he was clenching his teeth hard enough to nearly hurt his head, but he looked at her, eyes confused and angry all at once.

"What _is that_?" Thor asked, his voice sounding much angrier than he intended.

The archer walked toward them - now that the god was distracted - and closed the door behind him, not taking his eyes off the incensed thunder god.

"Thor," continued the woman, "can we... go somewhere? To talk?"

"No," said Thor through his teeth. "Tell me now what that was. I saw Loki... Did Stark record what he did to him? Why would he-"

A gentle hand touched his chest, "Look." Thor looked at the small woman - _really_ looked at her. She had the most determined look in her eye that it gave the god of thunder pause. "I'll tell you..." she nodded, her eyes steady and never leaving his. "I'll tell you..."

Thor nodded, transfixed by her gaze.

"But," she said calmly, "you need to promise me one thing."

"Anything," said Thor, eager to hear what everyone had been avoiding telling him.

She raised a brow slightly. "Thor..?"

"Whatever you ask, I will give my word."

She nodded twice. "Then I need you to promise me that you won't kill Tony Stark."

Thor furrowed his brow, uncertain what to say. It wasn't the first time someone had expressed similar concerns, but he had not promised anything yet, hadn't given _his word_. If he did this, he would have to keep it. He couldn't imagine what might have been done to Loki that would make him immediately wish death upon his dear friend - _what could be so terrible?_

Either way, he had no choice if he wanted to know. It was clear everyone on the helicarrier had been instructed not to reveal any details of Loki's ordeal to the thunder god, and that made him very nervous, but also very curious. Curiosity had never been his nature, that had always been Loki's, but the fact that _everyone_ _else_ knew except his own brother... No. He had to know.

Thor nodded resolutely, then spoke, "I swear. I will not kill Anthony Stark."

Natasha tilted her head, "Or hurt."

Thor wanted to roll his eyes, but relented, "Or hurt. But," he glanced at Barton then back at Romanoff, "I expect justice to be served, one way or another, even if _I_ am not the one to deliver it."

Both agents nodded, looking at each other. "Okay," said Natasha. "Come with me."

* * *

Loki trembled, huddled in the corner. Thor hadn't come back yet, _why hasn't he come back yet?_ He had given his word, _vowed_ to protect Loki, and where was he? There was someone else in the room with him, who was it? Oh yes, Steve Rogers, so called Captain America. Thor had left him to watch over the fearful trickster god, but Loki didn't want him, he wanted _Thor_, he wanted his _brother_.

_Where is he? Where is he?_

The golden-haired mortal was crouched in front of Loki, saying... things. But the god didn't hear him, he just sat shaking in the room's corner, his legs and arms trying their best to hide his body.

"Where's Thor?" asked Loki's whispered and desperate voice. He was crying - _crying_ in front of the mortal. Loki knew he should care, should be ashamed, but he honestly _did not care_. Did he ever care? He couldn't remember. He was sure he would have cared before... or would he? There were memories in the back of his mind, shattered fragments of long years and wars that dripped with blood. That he couldn't remember scared him, but he was so full of fear that it hardly mattered to add one more.

The mortal's lips were moving, "...sure he'll be back soon. Just...please, Loki get..." Loki tuned him out, waiting for Thor. Always waiting for Thor.

_Where is he?_ The words were all that filled him up and he feared he would burst if they continued to gather inside.

Suddenly the glass door opposite his bed slid open, and Loki was dashing across the room toward the familiar figure before his brain even registered he was moving.

The younger god practically leapt into his brother's arms, grasping the blonde around the chest as though afraid he would disappear at any moment.

"Loki!" Thor exclaimed, wrapping his arms around his little brother.

Loki buried his face in Thor's neck, determined to hold tight no matter what - he wasn't about to let Thor go _again_. _No, no, not again, never again... _"Please don't leave again!" Loki sobbed out.

"Brother," Thor was directing them toward the bed. "I am sorry... I... I needed to... to do something..." The thunderer sighed. "I left Rogers here," he felt Thor nodding, "but... I should have known you would awaken soon."

The two sat on the bed and Loki nuzzled closer, resting against Thor. He hadn't heard the door slide shut, nor did he notice the two brothers were now alone. He tried his best to collect himself before speaking, telling himself all was well now, that Thor was here, nothing bad could happen- "What- Why did you leave?"

Thor moved back to lean on the headboard, then waited for his brother to settle against him again before speaking. "It..." he hesitated. "It is not important... You need not concern yourself, little brother."

Loki glanced up at Thor, but the blonde's face remained impassive, staring straight ahead. He looked...sad? "Thor?" There was something... something wrong with Thor's face; the trickster couldn't pinpoint it. "Thor?" he said again, then leaned back just a little bit to get a better look at the thunder god's face.

Moments passed as Loki stared at the other, trying to figure out why his brother was trying to hide something behind a mask. _When did Thor start doing that? _

But when Thor finally looked at Loki, his blue eyes looking at each green eye in turn, something in the thunderer's expression changed, like the breaking of a dam, as tears spilled down his face.

"Thor?" Loki couldn't fathom what was happening. _What- what is-?_ The great thunder god's eyes were filled with tears as he watched his little brother's confusion and horror. "What-What's wrong, I- I-" Loki couldn't speak.

Two large and gentle hands grabbed Loki's face as Thor pressed his lips to his forehead. "Oh Loki..." said the blonde softly, his voice thick with sorrow. "I am so sorry..." he hugged Loki around the neck, pulling him close as the tears fell on his brother's dark hair. "I am so very sorry..."

The trickster clutched at Thor tunic, uncertain what to do. _He's...sorry? For what?_ "Why?" asked Loki. "Why are you sorry?" _What could _Thor _possibly have to apologize for?_

Thor stroked his brother's hair, sniffling. "I am... I am sorry for what you have gone through... I am sorry I was not there to protect you."

Loki jerked back, the act startling Thor as he loosed his grip. The trickster shook his head, shook his head and didn't stop. _No... no please, no... Thor can't- he can't know, he can't!_ Because if he knew, if he _knew_, then it was real. Then it had happened. Loki was hurt, he was damaged, he was _broken_ - and nothing could put him back together. If Thor knew... The two things shouldn't be in the same room, the same universe; the pain, the hurt, the sorrow - it shouldn't exist where Thor was. Wonderful, shining, _golden_ Thor, who had never let Loki down, who was _safe_ and _eternal _and _powerful_. Loki _needed_ the two realities to be separate lest they crash against each other and rend Loki apart when they battled.

_No please... you can't know._

"No..." Loki barely choked out, but the word was so small he was sure he hadn't even spoken. He leaned back, away from Thor, away from the promise that everything would be okay, that he'd _be okay_.

"Loki..?"

"No," he said again. "No you can't know... you _can't_. Please don't know, please don't..."

Thor looked at him with such sympathy, such _compassion_. How could Loki, who was nothing and no one, be allowed to even look upon the golden prince? To bask in his glory and touch his face? How could such a lowly insignificant and unworthy creature as Loki, who was little better than a mortal's toy, who was meant for others' amusements, be permitted to exist in the face of such greatness?

Loki knew he didn't deserve this treatment, this overpowering sympathy, this unrelenting love... _those tears..._

But he did cry - the thunder god _did_ cry, and for him, for _Loki_? Why should he? How could he?

"Please..." cried Loki, his own face wet. "Please don't cry for me... please don't... I don't- I don't deserve..." he shook his head, looking down, voice choking passed his constrained throat. "I don't deserve it. You mustn't cry for me- for _nothing_."

"Loki." Hands were suddenly on Loki's arms, then the sides of his face, forcing him to look up, to look at his brother. The face that greeted the trickster was so determined he could do nothing but stare, eyes wide. "Do not say such things. You are not nothing. _You are not nothing_." The hands were warm, unmoving. The face, so adamant. "You are my brother, my _brother_. Do you understand? You are _everything_ to me. And I would give up everything - _everything_ - in the Nine Realms for you." Loki tried to shake his head, but his muscles wouldn't move. "_For you._"

More tears fell, but Loki wasn't certain whose.

Then suddenly he was being embraced. Embraced so tightly he couldn't even _think_ to breathe.

He wanted to say 'No', to deny it all, because it _wasn't true_. Not a single word - it couldn't be! His body wouldn't move, his muscles were liquid, unresponsive. He just let Thor hold him, his big brother. So loving and kind - _impossible_. How could such a being exist? Surely this creature holding him was some illusion, some imagined thing, a dream of the trickster god's delusions.

But he wasn't - he was _real_, and every fiber in Loki's body _knew it_.

It wasn't until that very moment that Loki finally understood why Thor could wield Mjolnir.

* * *

A/N: Lol, poor Loki's kinda deep into the big brother worship, huh? I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter - obviously the other POV I mentioned was Thor's, at least for this chapter. Other characters will have their chances in later chapters. This fic will continue to be mostly from Loki's perspective, although there might be more switching POVs in the later parts of the story - not sure yet.

A/N 2: I'll be very busy these next few weeks with family stuff, so I'll not likely update for a little while. But don't worry! I am certainly not abandoning this fic or anything, I still have lots of ideas for it - just a short hiatus. I hope this brotherly feels chapter can hold you guys over for a while. ;)  
Also, I'm just about done with another multi-chapter fic that I might start posting soon; check out my profile if you want to see if you might like it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Warnings this chapter:** none

A/N: Sorry for being away for so long! I meant to upload this chapter last week but realized it wasn't finished, lol. But here we are; this chapter is about twice as long as the other chapters - just a little 'sorry for the delay!' ^^ Kind of a 'filler' chapter with mostly talking, but I hope you guys still like it!

* * *

_**Hollow Skies - Chapter 10**_

Over two weeks had passed since Loki's rescue. Thor stayed with him every hour of every day, barely leaving his sight and sleeping in the same bed. Although all of Loki's physical injuries had healed, Banner still insisted on keeping him in the infirmary, although neither god questioned it - and Loki truly could care less as long as Thor was with him.

Every night Loki would drape Thor's arm around him, and every night Thor would act as though he were already asleep when Loki did it. The trickster didn't mind; although he truly didn't understand why Thor felt it necessary to pretend. Was it a game?

Loki knew his mind had slowed, and more than anything else he feared this. His knowledge was vast, his comprehension of spells even more so, but now he feared he would lose that knowledge, that the part of him he held as dear to him as his family might be lost. _No_, not anymore. Thor was everything to him now, did it really matter if he lost his mind?

He shivered; suddenly afraid of his own thoughts. _Why do I think these things?_ His memory was faulty, his thoughts unclear and clipped off like scraps of paper that couldn't form a perfect picture for all their pieces lost in the wind. He saw glimpses of what he _should_ remember, but they floated around his head, mocking him and unwilling to settle within his mind like they were supposed to.

But Thor was there, Thor was his _anchor_. Steadfast and unchanging. Always there, never leaving. _Never leaving._

Loki suddenly felt afraid and began trembling. He turned around in the bed to face Thor, but then felt exposed at his back. What monsters lurked there?

It was bright in the room - always bright now, but he still felt the dark, bleeding in through the corners of every room, waiting for him to turn his back-

He whimpered and shook Thor, immediately feeling foolish for it but still not caring.

The thunder god woke with a slurred start, looking about. "Brother?" he mumbled and squinted against the light. "What is wrong?" he asked quickly when seeing Loki's fearful wide-eyed gaze curled up against him, shaking slightly.

"I... I couldn't sleep," came the feeble reply. Loki wanted to say more but his throat was too tight and the words wouldn't come anyway.

Thor sighed and drew him closer, arms wrapped around him. "Did you have a nightmare?" he asked with soft voice.

"No," said the younger quickly. Loki didn't have nightmares because Loki didn't sleep. The few times that he did manage to sleep, he woke up screaming and sweating and vomiting. The word _nightmare_ didn't quite cover it.

The look on his big brother's face told him Thor knew he wasn't saying everything, and that he didn't have to - didn't _need_ to.

The warm arms comforted Loki like a soft blanket never could, even the brightest sun paled in comparison.

Loki once again turned his back to his brother, content to sleep in their usual positions now that his worried thoughts had died down. The heavy arm over his chest was quickly followed by loud and wonderous snoring. Like thunder rumbling across the horizon, from one edge to the other following the lightning.

_Damn_, Loki thought. He should have asked Thor to conjure a storm; the thunder god usually obliged whenever Loki was fearful - which was frequently - but more so could be convinced when Thor wasn't in complete control of his faculties, like when tired or sleepy. The agents on the helicarrier always complained to Thor about the frequent storms, but the god of thunder only shrugged and smiled that bright smile of his which rarely failed to impress - or so Loki believed.

Who would argue with Thor, anyway?

* * *

"Where are we going?" Loki asked with half-shaking voice, holding tightly to Thor as they walked down the metal corridor. He didn't need any aid in walking, of course, but he was sure if he let go his trembling knees would send him crashing to the floor. Some part of him wanted to, then maybe his big brother would take him back to his room, where it was _safe_, where people wouldn't _stare _at him.

Loki whimpered and hid his face on Thor's shoulder when a man with dark short hair and a beard happened by, although to Loki's relief he didn't seem to notice the two gods. Thor said nothing, allowing the trickster to reorient himself before walking at the more steady pace again.

"I told you, Loki, the mess hall." Thor's voice was calm, neutral, as if there were nothing odd about taking him to the mess hall when Loki's food was always brought to his room.

He didn't understand the point of this. "But why?" the younger asked, with as much fear and confusion as he could muster, hoping the thunderer would take him back. He didn't want to see more mortals, he didn't want to see _any_ mortals.

"You- _We_ cannot stay cooped up in that room every day and every night. One meal away will not harm you," Thor said jovially.

Loki leaned in, "But what if the mortals poison me?"

Thor nearly laughed, but upon seeing his brother's fearful face answered, "Why would they rescue you only to poison you? And besides, I doubt there is a poison on Earth that could kill us."

The second answer didn't exactly reassure him, but he supposed Thor was right. And anyway, if they somehow _did_ poison him, Loki would know it and Thor would break into little bloody pieces whomever did the deed, so he shouldn't worry.

But he _did_ worry, and he couldn't _stop_ worrying. Poison was the least of his concerns, there were so many more worse things the mortals could do to him. _But Thor's here, Thor's here. Nothing can happen. Relax, nothing will touch you, harm you..._ His own thoughts somehow made him _more_ nervous, though, so he stopped thinking altogether and concentrated on not falling over and holding on to Thor.

It seemed there were several 'mess halls' and Thor took him to the nearest one, or so he'd said. The room was large, filled with nearly fifty silver tables with chairs affixed to them.

Fortunately, there were very few mortals eating right now, and a glance at a clock on the wall told him it was between meal times.

After passing through the large open door, Thor lead his brother to the left, then sat him down at the corner-most table closest the door. Loki sat with his back toward the wall, at least content that no one would sneak up on him, although a few passed behind since the distance to the wall was still somewhat large. The floor was grey and the ceiling filled with bright long square lights, which Loki drank in, happy to be out of the dark corridors - at least by comparison to his room.

Thor sat down next to him. "So," said the thunderer. "Will you stay here while I bring our food?"

Loki's eyes went wide, shaking his head at Thor.

"Loki..." said Thor with gentle admonishment. "I will be right there." He pointed to their left, where there was a long line of food-filled trays being watched over by several strange cap-covered mortals. The line to gather food was small, barely two or three humans at a time. It was indeed not very far away, and there were only four or five tables between Loki and the food-serving mortals-

"But," said Loki, trying to think of a good reason other than, _'I don't want you to'_ and _'Stay with me'_, which really wasn't a reason so much as a desperate plea.

Thor raised two sympathetic eyebrows, then nodded and stood up. "I'll be right back, brother. You need only call to me if you are troubled." With that he walked away, quickly but steady on his feet.

Loki stared after him, but noticed the line had grown since he had last looked. He chided himself for delaying Thor; if only he'd not said anything his brother would have been back by now. And he _was_ hungry. He had eaten breakfast, but they had lost track of time while sharing stories of their childhood and only remembered to eat when Thor jumped up to exclaim that he had arranged for no food to be brought for lunch today.

_'...Cannot stay cooped up'_ Loki grumbled to himself. He very well _could_ stay cooped up in that room, and for all of eternity for all he cared, as long as Thor was with him.

He knew mortals had rescued him, but they still made him nervous. How many more were like Stark? Loki shivered and hugged himself, looking down.

His gaze on the dull reflective surface of the table was interrupted by something both pale and dark, the table reflecting someone standing on the other side of it.

Loki flinched back and curled in on himself, barely glancing up to see who it was.

It was a woman. Loki relaxed a little but looked around warily, catching sight of Thor and cursing the line of mortals for forming in front of him.

"Hey," said the mortal, voice slightly high in casual greeting. Loki said nothing, eyeing the table. "I don't think we've met; I'm Agent Maria Hill." The name did sound familiar to Loki, but he couldn't recall where he'd heard her name. He dared another look at her.

She wore the same dark uniform as most SHIELD agents, and her brown hair was tied back professionally, her bangs swept to the side. All in all a pleasing-looking woman, Loki thought, even for a mortal, but she had an intense gaze that pierced through him even with her gentle expression - which she clearly wore for his benefit. Strangely, this made Loki feel better; knowing that the mortal was making an effort to make him comfortable told him she cared. Although on second thought it could also be a ploy to make him let down his guard, but what would be the point of that?

She carried one of the food trays in both hands, clearly here for lunch as well. A kind but tight-lipped smile crossed her face as she tilted her head a little. "I heard you're settling in well; glad to hear it." She was apparently trying to make 'small talk' and Loki's mind honestly could think of nothing to say in response. _Who is this woman? Why is she speaking to me? Where's Thor?_

"Well," she went on, "I hope you get to feeling better. And," she looked at him more pointedly, but not with malice, "if you need anything, just ask. Tell your brother if you'd like, he can relay it to me-"

"Lady Hill!" Thor's voice broke through, causing Loki to jump slightly. The thunder god walked up to the woman, carrying two trays balanced expertly on his arm.

"Thor, please," she said with a teasing and amiable tone, "I've told you before, call me Agent Hill or, if you must, Maria."

Thor laughed, seemingly at the words 'if you must' and canted his head. "Very well," he gave a small friendly bow. "Agent Hill. Would you like to join us?"

Loki tried to give Thor a reproving look but the idiot thunder god wasn't looking at him. _Is he insane? I can't sit with a mortal and-_

"It's nice of you to ask, but I don't think your brother would be comfortable-"

"Nonsense!" said Thor in his usual booming voice that no doubt carried through the entire ship. "He has had only me to speak to these past weeks, it would be good for him - for both of us - to converse with another." Loki scoffed internally at that. Most of the Avengers - save one - had visited every so often, although... he had to admit they seemed nervous around him, as though simply being in his presence grated on their nerves. Thor had said it wasn't that they were angry, or scared, or any other negative emotion, only that they felt _Loki_ didn't want them there, and that that was what made them apprehensive. Loki didn't buy it. His older brother wasn't the best at reading people, after all. No, it was something else, although he was wasn't yet sure what that could be.

"Even so," Agent Hill countered. She glanced at Loki, as though sensing his trepidation. "I sort of promised Agent Scott I'd sit with him-"

"Ah," Thor smiled and nodded knowingly with a hint of intrigue. "I see. Then perhaps another time?"

She nodded. "I'd like that. I'll see you guys later."

Thor smiled as she turned to Loki and nodded, then walked away.

"I like her," said Thor pleasantly, watching her disappearing form. He sat down next to Loki and set down the trays. "She is a formidable woman and she has been quite kind since your return."

Loki didn't know what to say to that since he didn't even know the mortal, although Thor didn't seem like he expected the trickster to chime in anyway.

Unsurprisingly, the food here was exactly the same as what was typically brought to his room. And, once again, he wonders why it's necessary for them to come _here_ instead of remaining where they had been for the last few weeks.

Thor began devouring his meal immediately - which was typical - but Loki eyed his tray without touching it, lost in thought.

"Hey, there," said a male voice suddenly. Loki winced and glanced up; a man stood in much the same position as Agent Hill had earlier. He immediately averted his gaze back to the table, somewhat able to make out the man's form through the hazy reflection. He too wore the dark SHIELD uniform, like Maria Hill.

Thor looked up after a moment, apparently lost enough in his meal to delay his notice. He smiled good-naturedly. "Well met, Agent."

The mortal glanced at Thor for a moment, but eyed Loki. "How're you guys doing? Having fun?"

The trickster continued avoiding his gaze, finding it unnerving, but the thunder god responded in kind, "I am doing very well; is there... something I can help you with?"

"And," said the mortal, ignoring Thor's question, "what about him?" He flicked his head in Loki's direction, eyes still intently watching the younger god.

Thor frowned a little but patted Loki twice on the back, still smiling, "He is doing better. I thank you for your concern."

The mortal made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort. "Right," he said with a hint of sarcasm Loki was sure Thor wouldn't notice. A moment of strained - at least Loki thought so - silence passed, then, "And you guys just let him roam around like this? Should I be concerned?" It wasn't a question and Loki knew it.

But of course _Thor_ wouldn't notice that. "You need not be concerned, friend. My brother is no longer a threat." Loki only just now noticed his brother's hand still on his back and it occurred to him that he wasn't the only one suspicious of this mortal. But Thor would only remain pleasant so long as the other party didn't push, Loki knew. If this mortal kept going in this direction...

The man set his foot on the chair in front of him, then leaned over with an elbow on his knee. "I suppose you just expect us to take your word for it, right?"

Out of the corner of his eye Loki saw Thor's eyes narrow slightly, the smile fading. This man's posture was suddenly challenging - if not exactly _overt_ in its challenge. But the thunder god doesn't like people unnecessarily asserting themselves near him, and he _certainly_ doesn't like the way the mortal stares at Loki. The trickster swallows and shrinks down in his seat, uncertain what to do.

"Nay, friend," said Thor, voice deep. "You may take your _director's_ word for it. But if you wish, _we_ may have words over it."

No one moved, the two stared at each other. Loki kept his head low, afraid to even look at the man's expression in the reflection of the table.

Suddenly Thor stood up, making Loki flinch at the unexpected movement. _No, don't leave!_ screamed Loki's mind, but the blonde didn't move from his spot, he only placed both hands - slowly, deliberately - on the table before him, then leaned forward, eyes still on the mortal.

"Now," he began, "was there something _else_ you wished to discuss, or will that be all, _agent_?" His voice was hard, a clear warning to _back off_ or feel the wrath of the thunder god. Thor was no less intimidating without his armor or hammer, and the mortal backed away, legs firmly on the floor again. Thor continued staring.

The agent scoffed. "Sure. Of course. I have a shift to get to anyway..." Although he was trying to hide it, Loki could sense the nervousness in his voice. Apparently the man had not thought this through; did he really think he would get anywhere with the god of thunder standing here? And suddenly it hit home even more than it had before- how vulnerable he was without Thor. He still wore the collar and chain - something that no doubt made him stand out even more than he already did - and was without his magic. He felt naked out here, Thor his only shade from their blinding hatred. But it wasn't all bad, was it? The mortal woman - Agent Maria Hill - seemed amiable enough. And despite the Avengers' obvious unease around him, they too appeared mostly friendly. Still... there were probably thousands of mortals in this flying fortress; how many more of them wanted to do Loki harm? How many more wouldn't care if he was hurt, if he died in their care, if he was once again returned to Stark-

Loki whimpered at his own thoughts - although not meaning to, drawing close to Thor. The thunderer slowly sat down and put an arm around Loki when he heard his distress. "Fear not, brother," he said, still gazing in the direction the mortal had left. "I will not let any harm come to you, remember?"

The smaller god nodded, but still felt anxious. He leaned on his older brother, food forgotten. Thor couldn't stay with him _all the time_, even if he wanted to. He had duties as an Avenger, and _eventually_, Loki knew, he would have to resume those duties. Midgard needed him, and without the ability to return home, he - and Loki - were stuck here. The thunder god easily became restless; how long would he be satisfied with spending almost every waking moment with the mischief god? Loki didn't know the answer, didn't _want_ to know the answer.

* * *

The trip back to Loki's room was much the same both ways. Loki held tightly to Thor and Thor reassured him as best he could, holding him tighter when he became especially fearful. It was pathetic, Loki knew, but he couldn't simply shrug off his fear despite knowing how ridiculous he looked hanging on to the thunderer like that.

When they returned to the safety of his room, Loki turned to Thor. "Brother..." he began, uncertain how to put his thoughts in order. "I..."

Thor's brows lifted slightly but he said nothing and waited. It amused Loki somewhat how his once overly-exuberant brother had learned patience these last few years.

The trickster sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, then decided to start with something more concrete, something more easily discussed. "Thor, can- can we..." _remove my collar_. But he couldn't make the words come out so he just fiddled with the metal around his neck. It may be easier to discuss than other issues, but it still made Loki nervous to bring it up. It blocked his magic and he knew that SHIELD might not allow him his - relative - freedom anymore if he suddenly regained his full abilities. And the truth was, he would much rather stay free without his magic than have it back and be imprisoned again... The thought made him shiver. Still, if he had his magic he would be able to defend himself... eventually, at least. Or he _hoped_ 'eventually'. He might feel safer now than when he had first come here, but only when in Thor's presence. He still felt his heart beat too harshly and his breath quicken whenever someone other than Thor entered the room. And the mere thought of Tony being in the same-

Loki shook the thought away and realized his hands were shaking.

"Brother," said Thor quietly, stepping forward and grabbing his hands in a gentle hold. "Do you speak of your collar?"

Loki didn't look at Thor but nodded, saying nothing.

"I..." Thor hesitated, "I thought you did not wish it removed..."

Now Loki did look up, searching the blue eyes. _Why would he think that?_ "What do you mean?"

The thunder god frowned in confusion. "Because I asked you, several days after you arrived here. Don't you remember?"

Loki's eyes widened. "No..." he whispered, staring at nothing.

A sigh from the thunderer drew his green eyes back. "Well," now Thor looked at nothing, "although I asked you then, when I discussed it with Director Fury and Agent Hill..." he trailed off.

Loki nodded in understanding, and somehow didn't feel disappointed. "They do not wish to remove it because they believe I will use my magic to..." he grimaced at even the thought. "That I will try to fight them again..."

Strangely, Thor's gaze snapped back to his, deep frown in place. "No, brother," he said, the faintest of smiles lingering in the corner of his mouth. "You- you believe they are afraid of you, how can they be when-" he cut himself off; Loki didn't know why. Thor shook his head, "I am sorry, Loki. I did not mean to imply you are wea-" He stopped again. Loki only stared at him, confused. _Imply what?_ Thor stared back, frown still in place. "What I mean to say is: they do not fear you using your magic, or anything of the sort, they _tried_ to remove your collar when you first arrived."

The trickster's eyes widened and he absent-mindedly scratched at the metal at the back of his neck. "What- but..." He didn't know what to say to that.

Thor sighed out through his nose. "You were terribly injured when you first arrived and they knew - from what I had told them of you before - that your magic aids you in healing. Doctor Banner said that several SHIELD agents had studied the metal and determined that it was made of some metal called..." Thor frowned for a moment, searching his memory, then said slowly, sounding it out, "...adamantium. Yes. From what they told me, this metal is very strong - they could not remove it no matter the tools they had." Loki listened, his despair growing but still curious about this metal. "They said... they said it is nearly indestructible and that they were surprised Stark had acquired it."

Loki wasn't surprised. Stark could do almost anything he wanted, couldn't he? What was obtaining some metal to him, no matter how rare? "Then," croaked out Loki, suddenly aware of how dry his throat was. "Then I will never be rid of it... I will..." He lowered his head, despair growing as the words came out. "Forever," he whispered. "I'll never be able to use my..." he couldn't say it. He couldn't _say it_. Magic. His magic was gone, then. Gone forever. He felt a tear drop.

"No, no, brother!" Thor leaned in, hand on the side of Loki's neck. "Do not despair-" his bright blue eyes stared at Loki, almost as distraught as the trickster. "Please, I have spoken to several of the SHIELD agents who are knowledgeable about such things. They said the collar is not closed completely - that it need only be unlocked." The trickster frowned, confused. "It is a _collar_, Loki. Stark had to have put it on you somehow. It is only locked around your neck - and if their is a lock, then it can be opened once again." A small, but still sad, smile crept onto the thunder god's face, and strangely, even that small gesture made Loki feel a little better.

"L-Locked..." repeated Loki.

Thor nodded, "Yes. Only locked. It _can_ be removed... somehow..."

_Somehow... but how?_ Then it hit him, and he didn't want to think it, but he did. He stared at the white floor. "Stark." The thunderer leaned back, arms crossed before him. "Stark can open it." Loki's eyes remained wide, words coming out on their own. "_Only_ Stark can open it."

The thunderer nodded again, sadly this time. "So it would seem."

* * *

A/N: I'm already halfway done with the next chapter - which will again have a perspective change - so hopefully I'll update it sooner than this one. ;) Until next time, my readers!

Also, for any comic book fans, I hope I got adamantium right, but I only did cursory research on it. I think Stark, of all people, could make/get ahold of some if he really wanted to - he created a whole new element in the movies, after all.


	11. Chapter 11

**Warnings this chapter: **none... I think.

* * *

_**Hollow Skies - Chapter 11**_

_His house was much the same as it had always been; bright and metal and glass and the sun shining through the wall-spanning windows, the ocean breeze caressing the solid walls of the structure. There was his grand piano in the corner, his pale couch, the stairs that led downstairs to his lab. His lab... But there was another place down there, wasn't there? He stared at nothing a moment, the stairs the only thing in his vision. _

No, no, no...

_He was suddenly standing there._

_There was a door._

_A metal door._

_It was at the end of a long hallway. But it wasn't long enough. _Too close...

_He stood at the end of it, staring passed the dim lights that lined the right side of the grey corridor._

_He didn't want to go there._

What's in there?

_...Dark._

_It was dark in there, he was sure. He took a step forward, then another. His legs were like lead, too heavy but still moving on their own._

No!

_He didn't want to go there..._

_Then suddenly he was before the door. The creaking metal seemed to _move, _ripple_- _almost _alive_, but nothing happened. It didn't budge, it didn't open, it only waited. Like death in a corner. _

_Then a whispered voice behind him and he jerked around._

_Nothing._

_His breath came in short gasps and his vision blurred._

_"Who's there?" he called to the dim hall. His heart beat so fast he thought it would tear through his chest. _

_Convinced he had imagined the sound he turned back to the metal door. But it was open. He jerked and fell onto his back like a force had hit him when the most terrifying _wail_ screeched out from the blackened nothingness beyond-_

Stark woke up so suddenly he would have fallen off the bed- except that he was tied down. Instead he sat upright, arms straining against their restraints, muscles coiling, hurting, _pulling_. His eyes were too wide, his breath too thin and fast, his heart beating so furiously it would have ripped out of its white-bone cage if it were possible.

He swallowed. Then swallowed again. Sweat dripped down his face and the sheets were wet with it.

"Hey," he called without thinking. _Where is everybody? Where... where am _I_?_ he wondered, looking around. He attempted to catch his breath while he looked around, trying to calm his nerves by doing something mundane, something familiar.

The room was mostly white and, looking down, he realized he was indeed tied down. _What the hell..._ He pulled at the soft restraints and continued looking around.

"Seriously, what the hell?" he called out again, voice broken and high. He swallowed a third time, throat suddenly so dry. He felt like he hadn't drank water in far too long. For the first time he noticed the IV going into his arm. _Did I... was I hurt- did I get hurt? _This place somewhat looked like a hospital, but it was strange. There weren't any windows and it was just... _wrong_ for a hospital room. "Hey, anybody?" he said a little louder, leaning a little to look around his bed.

He wore a hospital gown- which still pointed to 'hospital', but he was tied down and didn't seem to have a 'call' button. A weird thought jumped into his head. _I've gone insane. I'm in the loony bin, I've been tied down for my own good- all that drinking and partying and life-risking behavior... Pepper was right. Great. I'll never live this down._

"_Hey?!_" he screamed louder this time.

The door suddenly burst open and a man walked in, but his start and wide eyes at seeing Tony awake told him the man hadn't come in here because of Tony's yelling.

"Oh wow, there is a staff here," said Tony. "Little help-" the man walked out in a rush, closing the door "-or not..." Tony laid back onto the bed with a huff, then yelled to the ceiling. "If this is a prank or something I'm gonna fucking kill you guys!" Nothing. Quiet. "Seriously, guys... Clint! If this is because I left your stupid-ass-"

The door opened again, quietly this time, but Tony still heard it, sitting back up. At seeing Natasha walk in he sighed in relief.

"Finally," he bemoaned, then sighed loudly again. "Romanoff, why the hell am I tied to this bed?" He held up his hands then shook them. She walked over quietly, saying nothing. He frowned. "Or... did I..." he leaned back. "Did I really go crazy?" He stared at her, and wasn't sure if he was really joking or not. "I've gone insane, haven't I? What did I do this time? Walk naked through some bachelorette party uninvited? I _apologized_ last time, and I wasn't even really naked- they were exaggerating..." He eyed her suspiciously when she continued saying nothing. He quirked his jaw. "Seriously your kinda freaking me out right now. You got that 'I'm here to interrogate you' look. Should I be scared? Do I need my lawyer? Are you about to kill me?" he pointed a finger at her.

_Well,_ he thought, _this is unnerving_. Normally, Natasha didn't laugh at him, or even really smile, but she at least scoffed at him or shook her head, or _something_; right now she was just sort of looking at him, not staring really, but _looking_. It was... very weird. She's not a woman you want looking at you like some experimental creature in a petri dish.

Stark looked around, then shot his eyes back to her. "I know I shouldn't bring out the big guns, 'cause you know, you're my friend, but if you don't tell me what the hell's going on_ right now_..." Dramatic pause. "I'm gonna have to tell Pepper," he finished quickly.

Still nothing. Not even a hint of a smile. Now Tony really _was_ getting nervous.

"Tony," she said suddenly and he nearly rolled his eyes in relief. "What was the last thing you remember?"

And what the fuck was that question? "Huh?" he blurted out.

"The last thing you remember." She quirked an eyebrow but remained otherwise stone-faced.

"Uh..." he lowered his head in thought, eyes fixed on the far wall. "I don't... what?" he looked at her, brow furrowed.

"Tony," she sighed.

"Alright, alright!" he tried to hold up his hands in surrender, but couldn't. _What the hell happened?_ "Um..." he really _was_ trying to remember now, but his memory seemed hazy. He closed his eyes. "Me and, uh, let's see... Me and Bruce working on the cube, then..." he cracked one eye open. "We... uh..." _Damn! What the hell's wrong with me? _Why was his memory so muddled? Then it jumped into his head so suddenly he nearly spit the word out. "Loki!" Now _this_ got a reaction from her, her eyebrows lifting a little. "Bruce, uh, Bruce had already left, he had some kind of... shit, something he had to do overseas, then..." He shook his head, as if that would jog his memory. "Yeah, yeah... Loki just popped up in my tower, then," he felt like his brain was actively trying to hide something from him. "I don't know..."

"Take your time..." said Natasha's strangely soothing voice.

He squinted. "Yeah, uh... He- he was in the basement, or... no it was a cell and..." His eyes went wide. "The collar- the collar I made for him, I- I put it on him, and... wait," he looked at the red-head. "Did it work? I mean, did he- did he get away? Did you guys take him?"

Natasha stared at him, face blank. "No. You never told us you had him."

Tony frowned. "What the hell's that mean? Did we- the Avengers, did we keep him there? I mean, I guess it sorta makes sense, Thor not wanting his brother in the hands of such a _benevolent_ spy organization like your... own..." he trailed off at the look in her eyes. The problem was he didn't exactly know _what_ that look meant, but it still creeped him out severely. "So..." he drawled. "So where is he?"

Ignoring his question, she asked something else that caught him completely off-guard. "Stark, what day is it?"

He gave her a blank look. "What... day is it." She nodded, nonplussed. "What... day- uh let's see..." he looked around the room as if it were a really important question, which it wasn't. "The day is: who the fuck cares?! What the hell is _going on_, Natasha?"

She leaned in closer, suddenly. "Answer my question: _what is the date_?"

"Um," he leaned back, really confused now. _This is just too weird._ "It-It's May. May... I-" He grimaced at his memory. "Okay, I don't actually remember the _exact_ date- Don't hit me!" He mockingly turned his head away and closed his eyes, then cracked an eye open when she said nothing.

For the first time her expression was one he was more used to: condescending and ready for an eye-roll any second now. Then she said, "Stark, it's April."

"Huh?" he frowned. "Oh shit, did I invent a time machine and go back in time and that's why I'm strapped to this bed, because future-Tony can't exist in the same place as present-Tony - you're really freaking me out with your face, you know." Because she was so _serious_ again. Her eyes frequently lowered, as if thinking, like there was something on the tip of her tongue.

And when her eyes finally landed on his, so slowly, almost something like pain behind them - although he knew better, this was _Natasha_. Still... there was _something_ there, and the fact that he, of all people, _could tell_ sent shivers down his spine. His tongue was suddenly too heavy and his mouth hung open, like a door waiting to be slammed shut by whatever might come next.

"Stark," she started, then, "Tony," she said instead, "you've been... gone... nearly a year." His brow creased but he said nothing. "You had Loki that entire time. You put the collar on him - and yes, it _did_ work - and then you moved him to your house in Malibu." Tony blinked, unsure what to think; all he could do was listen, her tone so calm yet so ominous at the same time. "You didn't tell anyone you had him, and you kept him locked in your basement, some kind of cell you built, I guess."

He felt his breath quickening, his heart beginning to beat faster. _Basement... cell... dark... _His eyes left hers, falling on the blankets at his feet. He finally found his voice, _had_ to say something. "Why... why can't I remember?" He never looked at her, the sheets were all he could see.

"I don't know," she said quietly but firmly. "You hurt him, Tony." His eyes flicked to hers. "You hurt him a lot."

_Hurt him..._ But that wasn't the whole truth, was it? _Blue..._ _d__ark..._ He closed his eyes, the black behind his eyelids so terrifying, so familiar, but _not_. What was he seeing? There was something lingering there, something screaming and something else...blue, something eating at him and something scratching at his skin and his eyes and everything hurt, _why can't I remember?_

And her next words took his breath away. "You raped him. You tortured him. You did it... you did it to him a lot..."

Tony suddenly couldn't breathe- he _couldn't breathe_. He tried to intake a breath, but he _couldn't_. His eyes were wide now, looking at her. Panicked. _I can't breathe_, he wanted to say.

_Blue, blue, blue._

Something in his eyes must have screamed at her because her eyes widened in return. "Tony?" she said worriedly.

He opened his mouth like a fish, nothing coming in. His vision blurred.

_Blue, blue, blue... I can't see anymore, what is that? Where am I? Who's there? _It's not blue like the thing in his chest - a wrong blue, _not mine...__  
_

He sat up straight, then his voice spoke, "I'm... I'm gonna vomit now." And before he knew it his hands were free and he was moving without his knowledge somewhere... somewhere. There was a toilet in his vision next; ugly yellowed water was there, too. But before he could wash his mouth off, wash it _out_, he was standing, trying to walk back out, but he couldn't- _couldn't_ because the stain wouldn't go away, his mouth- _he_ would never be clean again. _I can't- can't... just have to, get out..._

He walked into the room and Natasha's hands, _too_ warm hands were on his arms, steadying him. He pushed her away. _No!_ "No, it's..." he coughed out a laugh. "No, this is bullshit. This is- this is..." he stumbled onto one knee beside the bed, she caught him again, he tried to push her away. "_Stop_, touching me!" he yelled, but she didn't heed him. _Can't breathe. _She squatted down next to him and he realized he was sitting on the floor. So cold against him and he wanted to vomit again. "This is a really cruel fucking joke, Nat, this is-" but his face was scrunching up as he tried not to cry- _tried_ so hard not to but the wetness was already spilling. "_Fuck,_" he coughed out and rubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands. "Fuck..." _It's true isn't it it's true..._ He knew it was true, _but no, it can't be true, but there's too much... too much of it, too much blue..._ "What the fuck am I _saying_?!" he suddenly screamed out.

Her hand was still warm on his shoulder. Unmoving, strange. It was his support, he knew, but he couldn't accept it. He was alone and she was alone. Two people alone in a room together. How did that make sense? Nothing would be okay again and he knew it, oh how he _knew it_. What would happen now? He didn't want to think, there was too much noise in his head and too much darkness- it was so loud it was eerily quiet. There was an expanse surrounding him, midnight broiling like a mass of unending ink, vicious on his skin and inside, too. He grabbed his head with both hands and sat and felt the coldness beneath him and the warmth of the hand on him because he had to _hold on_. _Just hold on, Tony, you idiot, just hold on..._ But he couldn't make it go away, could he? It was there, and it was waiting.

And somewhere, somewhere so deep he trembled with the hollowness of it, a whispered voice screamed at him: _"Shall we play again?"_

* * *

A/N: For all of you Tony fans out there, hope you liked this Tony-only chapter! And for my Loki fans, no worries, this is still a Loki-centric fic, more with him next chapter. I'd love to hear you guys' thoughts on this chapter. ^^

_IMPORTANT NOTE:_ This story is going on hiatus for a few months. Sorry! I have been really busy the last few weeks and will continue to be for a while more. I am _NOT_ abandoning this fic, I just don't have the time to add more to it right now. I may still write one-shots here and there (but not related to this fic).


End file.
